Musically Inclined
by Bluehaven4220
Summary: Armed with common sense, pure courage, and an iPod, follow The Doctor, Jamie, and new companion Bridget on an adventure that will change the way they see life, love, and each other. Jamie/ OC, 2nd Doctor era.
1. Shattered

**Title**: Musically Inclined

**Author**: Bluehaven4220

**Summary**: The Doctor, Jamie, and new companion Bridget meet at a time when all three are questioning their role in life and the universe. Traveling with the Doctor is an experience unlike any other, and it isn't long before Jamie begins to fall for Bridget, and vice versa. But with their pasts being so complicated, can they make it work?

**A/N: **Hello everyone! I've decided to try my hand at writing a Doctor Who story, and would appreciate ANY sort of feedback you can offer. Constructive criticism is most definitely welcome, but flames will be used to toast marshmallows and make smores. Allons-y!

**ooOoo**

_How many times can I break till I shatter? Over the line can't define what I'm after, I always, turn the car around. Give me a break, let me make my own pattern, all that it takes is some time but I'm shattered. I always, turn the car around._

_Shattered (Turn the Car Around)- O.A.R._

**ooOoo**

_I gave up on love when I was nineteen years old. I know, I know, everyone said that nineteen was far too young an age to be jaded, that I needed to go out and experience the world, that I needed to get my heart broken more than twice for me to be jaded. But they didn't know, they didn't understand, and really, they never would._

_I was absolutely certain that I was going to be alone for the rest of my life, and I was content with that. Really, I was. I was going to finish school (I was two years into a Bachelor's Degree in Communication), get a job, and raise begonias until I became an old maid, yelling at the TV for not telling the truth. Sure, I had plenty of friends, and I enjoyed my time with them immensely (there wasn't a day that went by that we didn't laugh at each other for some obscure reason), but really, none of them were boyfriend material, and they didn't consider me girlfriend material. We had more of a brother/sister relationship._

_And then I met you. Oh yes, it had to be you. I still remember how it happened. I was walking home from school with my earphones in my ears, and you were sitting on a bench that I stopped near. I knelt down to fix my shoe, and you watched me do it. I noticed your sly smile as I picked myself back up and retied the laces while resting my foot on the end of the bench itself. _

"_What are you smiling at?"_

"_Oh nothing, nothing," you said quietly. I rolled my eyes at you and didn't think anything of it and continued on my way. But the next morning you were standing near my front door. I didn't know why and I didn't know how you'd found out where I lived, but there was something in your demeanor that told me I could trust you. You weren't threatening, in truth it felt as though I'd seen you before._

_The same cycle repeated the next day, but this time you were standing near a blue box. A 1950s police box no less, grinning like the cat that ate the canary. And I let my curiosity get the best of me. I shouldn't have, I really really shouldn't have, but I did, and here we are. Four years later and I'm still traveling with you._

_But I've got to go now; I really have to go. But please don't think I'm not grateful for the time we've spent together and the places you've taken me to. God, it's been wonderful. I'd never have danced with Jamie at a celebratory dinner after the Battle of Culloden or met my great- great grandmother any other way. That's not to say that meeting the Cybermen or the Sontarans or the Yeti were anything to tell one's mother about, but I wouldn't trade it for anything. I wish I could stay, because this is so hard on both of us, but if I don't go now I'll never be able to._

_It wasn't just the adventures, believe me, it wasn't. The adventures aren't the only thing I'll take away from this. When I first met you I was angry and upset, and I'd been holding on to that anger for more than three years, and I'd shut out (or thought I'd shut out) any possibility of loving anyone else. My own mother had once told me that I had no love or kindness in me at all, and I was beginning to think she was right. She bloody well was, I'll give her that. But that was all until I met you. You helped me to heal, and love again. Oh please don't think it was you I fell in love with, certainly not. Time Lord and human… no. No, no, no that just doesn't work. Believe it or not, it was Jamie. That red blooded Scot in a kilt who always treated me like a princess, holding open doors for me, holding me to him when we were in danger, willing to step in front of me to defend my honour. In all honesty I'd forgotten that men like him used to exist. Now a days all the young men I've ever run into only think with their dicks, hoping to bed as many girls as they can before the week is out. _

_But I digress. Jamie later told me in no uncertain terms that he was also in love with me, even though I was 'a hard lass t' contain, and feisty as all hell. Can nae think of anyone better t' keep me on me toes'. As far as I know I'd done absolutely nothing to warrant this sort of affection. But who am I to argue? Maybe I was just born in the wrong century and was meant to find this one Scot. He says he "can nae give me the universe, but he'll damn well nae stop tryin'". He's asked me to marry him, and I want to say yes, but I can't bare the thought of knowing that one day he'll have to return to his own time, and me to mine. Otherwise it will upset the Timestream, as you've so often told us. Truth be told I don't want to go back to where I came from. I want adventure, I want love, and I'll have that with Jamie. Is there any way this is possible?_

_By the time you read this, I'll probably be packed and ready to go, because I know we should do this properly. But before I stop writing, let me just say that I'll never forget what you've done for me, and I'll most certainly never forget you._

_All my love,_

_Bridget Leila Grey _

**ooOoo**

He smiled. It was a sad smile, but one nonetheless. It would hurt to let her go, just as it hurt to let the others go, he knew. He'd seen it when they first arrived after the battle. Jamie had helped to clear away the bodies, and then had gone home. You picked up and went on with life; that was just the done thing.

How Jamie and Bridget had met was actually difficult to explain. It had been just after the whole mess in San Francisco, and Grace had stayed behind. Once he got the TARDIS going again, he drifted until he landed near a pathway. It was near the edge of a city called Ottawa, and it was a dreadfully cold day. She'd been walking by with her earphones in her ears, listening to a song about turning the car around, and blowing on her fingers for warmth through her 'poor boy' mitts. But he realized that 'turn the car around' meant so much more than just turning a car around. It meant going back to the person you love, forgiving them for what they may have done. When he first met her he realized that she didn't really believe the song's lyrics. She was angry, and sad, he could see her heart had been broken, and she was trying to pick up the pieces and move on. The only problem was, she'd given up, he could see just by looking in her eyes she wasn't ready to forgive and she certainly wasn't going to open her heart up again any time soon.

When he'd asked her to join him on his travels, she hadn't hesitated. She was stuck, and she'd been stuck for a very long time. Frankly, she admitted to him later, she was bored, and wanted nothing more than to just disappear and see another part of the world. But it was Jamie who met her first.

She'd been walking along the edge of the Canal on the concrete that was situated above the pavement. It was coated in a layer of ice, so the concrete seemed the better alternative. Unfortunately black ice chose that moment to make itself known, and she slipped, landing on her side and in the 3 inches of water that lay below.

"Och, over there!" he'd shouted, and he'd lifted her head out of the water. Resting her head on his lap for a moment, he called for him again. "Come on, we've got to get her inside. She's chilled t' the bone."

"Yes of course, um…" he fished in his pocket for a key, ran back to unlock the TARDIS. Running back to Jamie and the girl, he helped her to stand, draping her arm around his shoulder, Jamie doing the same to her other arm, and helping to get her inside. They immediately took her to the medical bay, and wrapped her in warmed blankets, packing hot water bottles along her sides.

"What's her name?"

"Didnae check, Doctor," he admitted.

"Well did you look in her backpack? Maybe her pockets?"

"I cannae go lookin' in a lady's satchel. Is not right."

"Oh fine, I'll do it then," he bent down and sifted through her books, finally finding her wallet hidden at the bottom. Undoing the snap, he found her student card. "Oh okay, this says her name is Bridget Grey, and she's a university student. Studying communication and history. Well good for her."

Jamie was barely paying attention, stroking her hair out of her face. "What would she be doing out dressed like that?"

"Well it's 15 degrees below freezing and Ottawa is always cold during the winter months. What did you expect her to be wearing?"

"I don't know, something more than just the jacket an' mitts that don't cover her fingers!" he answered. "I meant, what would she be doing out so close to supper?"

"She may have just been out for a walk. Not everyone eats at the same time," he explained. "Now, it may be a couple of hours before she comes around… perhaps you could sit with her in case she wakes up?"

"Oh but Doctor, I…"

He gave the young Scotsman a stern look.

"Oh alright," he hung his head and sat down in a chair beside the bed.

He was working through a children's version of Robin Hood when Bridget came to. She woke, stared at him for a few seconds, smiled, waved, and got up, grabbing her backpack and sticking her earphones back in her ears.

"Och, wait a minute, lassie!" Jamie called after her. "Ye can get lost in a place like this."

But she didn't respond. She turned right and surprisingly had found her way back to the console room. She'd stopped, her eyes darting from the Doctor back to the console back to Jamie.

"Hello," the Doctor smiled at her.

She gave a small smirk and a chuckle, and ran out of the TARDIS. They hadn't moved, except for getting out of the canal and up near the side of the road.

"Oi, come on!" Jamie muttered, sticking his head out the door to see which way she'd gone. "Doctor, can't we go after her?"

"We probably spooked her enough as it is," he answered, putting his hands on Jamie's shoulders and gently pulling him back inside the TARDIS. "If we're lucky we might see her again."

"How do you mean lucky?"

The Doctor held up her ID card. "She forgot this," he wriggled his eyebrows and placed it back in his pocket. Moving back to the console, he made them dematerialize and land right near her house. "Now, we'll stay here for the night and when we see her in the morning, we'll give it back and no harm done."

"Aye," he rolled his eyes and went off to bed.

It was nearing nine in the morning when she appeared, carrying a plastic box full of cardboard out to the curb. Jamie noticed she had the look of someone who hadn't slept well and was just waiting for the day to end as soon as it began. Her brows were knitted, and it looked like she was grinding her teeth.

He approached her, hearing "God damn it, next time they should fucking do it the night before. Making me do it all the time, I'm not a fucking maid!"

"Excuse me…"

"What!" she nearly yelled. Her eyes locked with his and hers lit up with recognition. "Oh Jesus, I'm sorry. Don't I know you?"

"Oh no, not really," he answered. "I'm James Robert McCrimmon."

"Nice to meet you, James Robert McCrimmon," she shook his offered hand. "I'm Bridget."

"Aye," he nodded. "I think this is yours."

"What's mine?"

He handed her the ID card.

"Oh my God, I thought I'd lost it!" she hugged him quickly, catching him off guard. "You just saved me around fifty bucks. God knows that's more money toward rent and food."

"Glad I could help, lassie."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," she ran back, closed her front door, and ran past him, stopping to kiss his cheek. "I've got to go, but thank you so much!"

Jamie watched her run out of sight and walked back to the TARDIS. Closing the doors behind him, he saw the Doctor still working away underneath the console.

"Did she get her ID back?"

"Aye," was his only answer.

The Doctor knew it wasn't like Jamie to say so little. Wheeling himself out and still on his back, he tilted his head to stare at the young Scot.

"Why Jamie, you look slightly punch drunk…"

"Eh?"

"Dazed," he clarified.

"Oh, aye…"

"What happened?"

"She kissed me."

"Did she?" the Doctor chuckled. "Well that was nice of her."

"Are all people in 2010 like tha'?"

"Far from it, Jamie. Now a days people are more inclined to kill you as soon as they look at you."

"Doesn't sound so different from my time," he remarked.

"I'd still say you're lucky Bridget didn't maim you this morning."

"Eh?"

"Knock your teeth in," he clarified again.

"Why would she do that?" Jamie was flummoxed. Surely he hadn't done anything so deserving as a knock in the mouth so early in the morning.

"She's very angry, Jamie, and she has ample cause to be," he remarked from under the console, using the sonic screwdriver to reroute the wires and get the old girl running smoothly again. "Though I must say she hides it very well."

"Ha, ye didnae hear her cursing a blue streak when I first approached her," Jamie answered. "Every other word was another term for…"

"For?"

Jamie cleared his throat. His mother and father had always taught him to hold his tongue if push came to shove in regards to sex.

"Ah," the Doctor understood immediately. "Well, it's nothing to be ashamed of. But I can't tell you anything else. Might interfere with the Timestream."

"Isn't there something we can do to help?"

"Afraid not. If we run into her again, well then we're quite lucky. But now, however…" he set the TARDIS in motion and they dematerialized.

**ooOoo**

Yes, he wouldn't forget her. Bridget Grey had agreed to travel with them, because they had indeed seen her again. Only this time they'd found her along the side of the road, her clothes covered in dirt and her earphones still in her ears.

"Does she nae go anywhere without those things in 'er ears?"

"Guess it helps her relax."

"What're they for, anyway?"

"Music," the Doctor answered. "Now, she seems like she needs a hand. What do you say we help her out?"

"Aye."

So the two of them watched as Bridget finally stopped, out of breath, and sat down by the side of the road. She let out a hard sigh and rested her chin on her knees. As they approached, Jamie was sure she was ignoring the rest of the world, if only for that short amount of time.

"Bridget?" Jamie sat down beside her. It took her a few seconds before she acknowledged that she was not alone. She jumped a bit, her eyes wide. "It's alright, not here to hurt ye," he insisted. "Just thought you might need a bit of a hand."

"I'm fine," she protested, wiping a tear away with a knuckle. "Just a bit of a row, really. But I'm fine."

"You don't look fine," the Doctor sat on her other side.

"And who are you, then?"

"He's the Doctor," Jamie clarified. "And I'm Jamie, but I told you that already."

"People who are fine do not usually sit on the side of the road with cars whizzing by covered in dirt," the Doctor continued, putting an arm around her shoulder.

She flinched slightly, then relaxed. It had to be something to do with this Doctor bloke, she realized. Like she'd seen him before, like the songs her mother used to sing to get her to sleep at night. The songs about the Sandman and the Magic Man always being there to watch over her, back when things were fine between them.

"Like I said, t'was only a row," she told him. "My dad got wind about something I might've done. Nothing happened in either case, but nonetheless he got mad when I denied anything was amiss. Backhanded me and stuck his hand down my top so I spat in his face, told him to go fuck himself and here I am."

Jamie's eyes went wide. How could someone do that to their own daughter? Any loving parent kept their hands off their children, regardless of whether they had boys or girls. One thing was for sure, Jamie knew, that when he had his own children he'd never lay a hand on any of them, especially not in that manner. Where he was from you treated a lady with respect, and you did not touch her without her permission. He had enough sense for that at least.

He heard a drum beat a few moments later. "What's that?"

Bridget dug into her pocket and pulled out her phone. Rolling her eyes, she nudged the Doctor's arm off her shoulder and got up. Pressing the phone to her ear, she listened for barely a second before telling the person on the other end to 'go die a horrible and painful death', before shutting it off. Without another warning she flung her arm back and whipped the device clear across the road. It landed with a satisfying splash into the creek.

**ooOoo**

It was just after that incident that Bridget became a member of the TARDIS crew. And it took less than a week for her to warm up to the fact that they traveled through time and space. In fact, she said, it was something she'd always thought was impossible.

"Och, nothing's impossible, lass," Jamie told her over a mug of tea her first night on the TARDIS. "'Specially not with him."

"But who is he?"

"The Doctor."

"Yeah I know that, but a title is only a title. I could call myself the Virgin Mary if I wanted to and people would believe me," she saw Jamie nearly spit out his tea at such blasphemy. "What's his real name?"

"I don't know," Jamie confessed. "I sometimes wonder if he remembers, that's how old he is."

"He doesn't look a day over 45," she reasoned.

"Och, you should've seen him the first time I met him."

"You mean when he was younger."

"Aye, he looked like he does now," he explained. "Wore a top hat, didnae suit him if ye ask me, and he played a flute. Then I met him again and he was completely different. He'd grown about… well I don't know how much but it was a lot, and he had curly blond hair…"

"And he still looks the same now as when you first met him?" she smiled.

"Well he's a little older now, and I think I saw a few grey hairs. He's an old man."

"Oh dear God," she rolled her eyes, chuckling and feigning amazement. "Doctor!" she called over her shoulder.

He poked his head in the room. "Yes my dear?"

"Have you got grey hair?"

"A gentleman never tells," he chuckled. "And a lady never asks."

"That may be but I'm no lady," she reasoned. "Jamie reckons you do, but I don't believe him. I want to know for sure."

"Do I?" the Doctor pulled a mirror from his pocket and ran a hand through his hair. "Well I suppose I do. Nothing wrong with that. I think it's quite stylish."

"Jamie's right, Doctor," Bridget held up her hands in surrender and let them land on the table. "You're most definitely an old bugger."

"Hey now, no call for that kind of language," he smiled at her. "Do that again and I'll have to stick a bar of soap in your mouth."

"It's no use sparring with her, Doctor, you'll only end up losing." Jamie was smiling, as though feeling free to criticize the Doctor without fear of backlash. "She's right though, you _are _old."

"Please yourself. Are you needing anything else?"

"Yeah, uh… where are we going?"

The Doctor gave them a sly smile. "It's a surprise."

Bridget rolled her eyes and laid her head down on the table.


	2. Jolly Roving Tar

**A/N: Hi everyone, just letting you know that I've got about nine chapters of this story completed, so updates will be pretty frequent (about once a week). This is a rarity to have two chapters up in two days, but I love this story too much to not be able to share it with you. Also, feel free to leave a review, the door is always open**

**ooOoo**

_Ships may come and ships may go as long as the sea does roll. Each sailor lad, just like his dad, he loves the flowing bowl. A trip on shore he does adore with a girl who's nice and round. When the money's gone it's the same old song, get up Jack, John sit down. Come along come along you jolly brave boys, there's lots of grog in the jar. We'll plough the briny ocean with the jolly roving tar_

_Jolly Roving Tar- Great Big Sea_

**ooOoo**

"What's wrong with surprises?" Jamie asked.

"Trust me, Jamie, surprises aren't welcome things in my house."

"Well surprises are nae all bad," he folded his hands and leaned against the table. "I've had some pretty good surprises while traveling with the Doctor. Best time of m' life so far."

The Doctor poked his head in the kitchen again. "And it's about to get better," he smirked.

Jamie and Bridget could only look at each other in surprise. Getting up and rushing back into the console room, they stopped just short of walking into the door.

"Where are we?"

"Take a look…"

Jamie pushed open the door to find the Scottish hills staring back at him.

"We're in Scotland!" he marveled.

"The year 1746, specifically," the Doctor appeared behind him. "You've been missing about 3 months."

"Missing?" Jamie asked. "They donnae think I'm dead?"

"Well they never found your body," he answered. "And if they don't find a body, the person is declared missing, or worst case scenario, dead. But in your case, you're missing."

"I've nae got any family around here now, Doctor," Jamie reasoned. "Why are we back here?"

"How can you be sure?"

"They're probably all dead and gone," he said. "But when it's war ye tend to forget who's family and who's the one you're trying to run ye sword through."

"True enough, but I still thought you'd might like to see home, if only for a few minutes. See if your father and mother are still alive."

"Me mum and da died when I was ten," he answered. "That's why I was livin' with me Laird. They took me in, taught me to be exactly like me da. Playing the pipes and all. Is how I got to be their piper."

"But you weren't an only child, were you?"

"Oh no," Jamie shook his head. "No, no, no. I had a sister, though I donnae ken where she is. Probably has her own family now. Has nae use for me coming round."

"I'm sorry, Jamie," Bridget offered.

"Ah it's alright," he put an arm around her shoulder. "I'm more worried bout you."

"Me?"

"You've had a rough go of it the past few days."

"Nah, it's fine. Was a long time coming. Just needed that extra push I guess," she cleared her throat. "Wait a minute… Doctor?"

"Hmm?"

"You did say 1746, right?"

"Right."

"Jamie, your sister and her family could still be alive," she reasoned. "Especially if they were a long way from the battle. Don't you want to find out?"

His eyes locked with hers. "You're going to have to get changed though, lass."

"What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"

"T-shirt and jeans, Bridget? You'd cause a scandal," the Doctor explained. "Inside the TARDIS, in the wardrobe room there should be a couple of dresses to choose from. Go on, quick."

Bridget ran back to the TARDIS and emerged about 10 minutes later dressed in a cream coloured muslin dress. Jamie turned to see her walking back to them.

"Is that Bridget?" his mouth dropped open.

"This look okay?" she held out her arms, smiling. "Jamie, close your mouth, you'll catch flies."

"Beautiful…" he breathed, offering her his arm. "Well lass, shall I escort you down the hill?"

She giggled and took his arm. "Lead the way, Mr. McCrimmon."

The Doctor laughed with her, and followed them down the hill. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Jamie so alert. When they'd left Victoria with the Harris family Jamie had been angry with him for days, almost weeks on end, and as much as he liked Zoe, he'd never been as close to her. Now, with Bridget needing friendship, he was the best person for her, and she for him.

"Come on, Doctor!" Jamie called over his shoulder.

They reached the little cottage to find a small child, about 6 years old playing in the dirt.

"Mummy!" she called, running back into the cottage.

"What?" she called. "Oh my God, it's our Jamie!" she cried, running out to greet him and wrapping him in a tight hug. "I thought ye were dead, you daft old thing. Where have you been?"

Jamie could only smirk, turning to the Doctor. "That's the man what saved my life over there, Cora," he answered.

"Thank you very much, sir…" she shook his hand and kissed his cheek. "I'm sorry I don't even know your name."

"I'm the Doctor."

"Doctor what?"

"Just the Doctor," he smiled. "Well Jamie, I won't keep you much longer. Bridget and I will head back. Take as much time as you need."

"Oh no," Jamie shook his head. "No way. You're nae getting rid o' me _that _easy…" he gripped Bridget's hand.

"Just for a bit, Doctor. I'd like to explore," Bridget pleaded.

"Oh fine, have…"

Before he'd gotten the last word out, Cora had pulled her from Jamie's side and was leading her back into the house.

"Whoa, hey, slow down!" Bridget giggled.

"Now gorgeous, sit ye down, I'll make us a cup of tea," she filled the heavy kettle with water and set it over the fire. "Now, where would my brother have found you?"

"Oh, well…" she looked to Jamie who had just made his own way back into the house and was wiping his feet at the front door. "I'm not from around here."

"Could have guessed as much. Didnae think you were a Scot at any rate," Cora answered. "Where are you from anyway?"

She knew she could _really_ reveal where she was from. When traveling with the Doctor you can't really say "Well I'm from the future, over 250 years in the future to be exact. This is what you have to look forward to, if you live that long anyway." Always a tricky thing, and it was at this point in time she wished she hadn't left her iPod charging in the TARDIS. It gave her something to do when in tight or uncomfortable situations.

"Uh… across the pond," was her answer. There, that would satisfy her for now, she hoped anyway.

"So our Jamie didnae run off with you then?"

"Oh no, not at all," she insisted. "No as far as I know he was the one that saved me."

"Ye give me too much credit there, Bridget," he answered. "The Doctor was there too, you know."

"Yes that's true," she admitted. Clearing her throat, she moved to get up.

"Who's the Doctor?"

"Like he says, he's the Doctor."

"Who is he really?"

Bridget shook her head, made a noise that sounded like 'pfft' and threw up her hands. "I don't know. I don't think Jamie even knows, and he's been traveling with him longer than I have."

"So ye let a stranger take ye traveling of your own free will?"

"It was a damn sight better than where I was heading," Bridget answered. "Oh, excuse my filthy mouth." She cleared her throat again. "When Jamie and the Doctor found me I was sitting on the side of the road, covered in dirt. Really, I was ready to die that night, and believe me, I deserved it."

"Bite your tongue!"

"Last time I did that I bit right through it. There was blood everywhere."

"Oi, don't ye cheek me, lass," there was fire in her eyes now. "No one deserves to die, I donnae care who they are. Do ye understand what I'm saying? No one deserves such a thing!"

Bridget held up her hands in surrender.

"Now," she leaned forward so Jamie couldn't hear her next question. Whispering, Bridget's eyes went wide at the suggestion.

"Absolutely not!" she suddenly felt sick.

"Alright, just a question. Would nae want our Jamie to forget what he was taught."

"Well whatever it was I certainly hope he knows better than that."

"Course I do," Jamie sat down with a soft biscuit in his hand. "What do I know better of?"

"Taking a soft biscuit without asking for one thing," Bridget promptly snatched it away and took a bite herself. "There, you can have the rest," she mumbled around the foodstuff and handed the biscuit back to him.

"Come on, close ye mouth. You're not a cow are ye?" she heard her host's voice again.

"Depends on what day it is and who you ask," Bridget answered. "One day I could be a cow, another I could be a bitch, another could be good for nothing slag. Take your pick."

"Oh now, leave 'er be," Jamie interjected, hoping to avoid any further confrontation. "So, sis, what's going on tonight then?"

"Eh?"

"What's with the sticks in the bonfire pit?"

"We do that every night, Jamie McCrimmon," she smiled, gently pressing her knuckles to his jaw. "The kids love it, so does their da. Ah ye should see it."

"Well if you're doing on tonight, I think Bridget and me could stay, maybe the Doctor will come too."

"You think so?"

"Aye," he nodded.

"Well," Bridget placed her hands on the table and pushed her chair away. "Jamie, you stay here, I'll go ask him."

And with that Bridget got up, opened the front door and bolted. She ran across the grass, not even fully aware that she was still in bare feet. Reaching the TARDIS, she pushed on the door and almost fell forward with the momentum of her stride.

"Good heavens, my dear," the Doctor snapped his book shut and went to help her up. "Bridget, are you alright? What's the hurry?"

"Nothing," she heaved. "Jamie wants to know if we can stay for the bonfire tonight."

"Yes that's fine, but why come barging in here like a herd of elephants? What's happened?"

She picked herself up, brushed the dirt from her knees. "I need to go take a shower."

"But what's…"

"Go ask Jamie!" she called over her shoulder as she made her way toward the bathroom. If he called after her for answers at that point in time, so help her she would have punched him in the face.

But he didn't. He let her get into the shower and cry in peace. If he heard her strangled sobs as she furiously scrubbed her body, the soap lingering over the tattoo of an old Scottish proverb she'd gotten on her shoulder, he said nothing when she re-emerged, adjusting her sleeves to cover the ink.

"What does that say?"

"What?"

"On your arm."

"It's just a Scottish proverb. I got it done when I was seventeen."

"May I?"

"Hmm…" she murmured in agreement. He gently rolled up her sleeve to reveal _twelve highlanders and a bagpipe make a rebellion_ all in lower case letters.

"Why this proverb?"

"Because I thought it was nice. It was something I needed to do. It's not the greatest, but it was the first decision I ever made for myself and I'm quite proud of the fact that I've got it."

"You don't need to justify it to me, my dear Bridget," he let her sleeve fall again. "A tattoo does not maketh the woman. It's an expression of your individuality and who you are and something that is important to you, but it does not encompass the whole of your being," he ran a knuckle down her cheek. "You are so much more than that, and you mean a great deal to Jamie and I."

There was a genuine smile on her face. "That's the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me, Doctor," she admitted.

He smiled and kissed her cheek. "Now then, what do you say we go enjoy this bonfire, hmm?"

She chuckled and rolled her sleeve down again. Smiling, she stepped out of the TARDIS and linked arms with the Doctor, who walked her back to the bonfire, where Jamie was stacking firewood and the little kids were bringing him bunches of sticks to help.

"Hey oh, Doctor," Jamie smiled. "Pull up a stump and we'll be ready in a tic, aye?"

"That sounds marvelous, Jamie," he sat down and waited.

"Can I help, Jamie?"

"Nae, lass," he answered. "We're nearly there. Cora and her husband are coming out. The bairns are already out. He's got the pipes goin' too."

"Pipes?"

"He's a piper, lass," Jamie told her. "Just as I'm a piper like my father and my father's father too."

"Oh…" she nodded, sitting on another stump and wrapping her coat around herself a bit tighter. "All you guys pipers. Good sets of lungs. Good."

"You're babbling, Bridget," the Doctor leaned in and whispered.

"Am I? Oh sorry," she giggled. "It's really beautiful out here."

"Aye?"

"Yeah, I mean, I wouldn't mind staying for a while. Might be a good thing."

Jamie's eyes went wide.

"Best to think about it a bit more before you really say anything of the sort," the Doctor suggested. "But now, ah…" he noticed Cora bringing out plates of stew and a loaf of bread.

"What are we thinking 'bout?"

"Oh, nothing important," Bridget waved it off. "We're just talking."

"Oh enough talk," she smiled, handing the plates of stew to her guests and sitting down with them. They ate, chatting about life, where they had been, laughing. It was a lot more relaxed and welcoming than the interrogation they had had before.

Jamie stocked the fire again and heard the distinct sound of bagpipes starting. He heard 'The Piper's Welcome', a favourite of his, and sat back.

"Uncle Jamie, dance with me!" Jamie's youngest niece, Margaret, grabbed his hand and pulled.

"Alright, lassie, calm down, I gotta get up first…" he smiled as he was dragged around the bonfire, laughing as the little girl placed her hands in his and danced a small jig.

The Doctor and Bridget clapped out a rhythm as they watched Jamie and Margaret dance. Laughing, Margaret dragged Jamie over to her and joined their hands. "You too!" she insisted.

"Oh now I don't know…"

"I'll tickle ye if you don't," Margaret told her. "Please?" she begged, batting her eyelashes.

"Oh alright," Bridget pulled herself up and was soon dancing around the bonfire, jumping and laughing with Jamie and Margaret as the Doctor kept his place on his stump, merely keeping a rhythm with his hands.

But it was then he noticed something strange.

Well, not really strange, but different. Bridget was laughing and enjoying herself, and she was allowing herself more contact with Jamie than she'd ever allowed before.

She was changing, and he wondered if she knew it herself.


	3. Your Stone Walls

**James Birdsong: Thank you. There's more on the way.**

**Derek Metaltron: Oh my God, it's you! I'm a big fan of your work, and nearly fell out of my chair when I saw you'd reviewed this story! (squeal). You're right, there's a tiny glitch in that first chapter. This fic was originally going to be an Eight/Jamie/Bridget fic, but I found it really difficult to write Jamie with another Doctor that he hadn't already met and interacted with, so I changed it to Two/Jamie/ Bridget. I thought I'd changed all the Eight references, but I guess I missed one. Rest assured the rest of the story is all Two. I really do try to keep Two and Jamie in character, thank you so much for noticing.**

**A/N: Jamie is about 25/26 in this story. Frazer Hines was 22 when he started as Jamie, so it's not that difficult to assume that, due to the Season 6B theory (which I wholeheartedly support), Jamie traveled with the Doctor for (way) longer than 'The War Games' suggests. Anyway, enjoy, and feel free to leave a review, the door is always open.**

**ooOoo**

_Some people tell me that you lead a terribly rough life. And that you keep to yourself to survive many cold nights. And I'll be sorry one day if I don't keep my distance, a fool to believe that I'll make a difference, well, maybe I can't deny, there's a bitterness in your eyes, but about all they say, I'm afraid I must disagree. Cause I see your hard heart crumbling, your stone walls want to tumble in, when you're looking at me._

_Your Stone Walls- Lawrence Gowan_

**ooOoo**

Bridget awoke the next morning in the TARDIS under the bedcovers. She hadn't even needed her alarm clock, she just awoke naturally. Throwing back the blanket, she noticed she was still dressed in her clothes from the night before.

Getting up, she went to the kitchen to find a cup of tea. She'd never been a coffee drinker, and it was just as well, because the Doctor and Jamie weren't big on coffee either. As she put the kettle on, she rummaged in the cupboard for teabags and attempted to rub the sleep out of her eyes.

"Good morning," she heard.

Jumping, she turned quickly and hit her back on the edge of the counter.

"Jesus Christ," the pain set in. "Ah, my back!"

"Sorry, didnae mean to startle…"

"It's fine," she placed a hand on her back and rubbed the spot where flesh had met countertop.

"No really I'm sorry."

"Jamie, you're 25, right?"

"Aye."

"Do you want to live to see 26?"

"Well I was hoping to."

"Then I suggest you stay away till I've had some tea," she winced, finally finding the teabags and placing two in the pot. The kettle whistled and she poured hot water and went to the fridge.

"Milk, where's the milk?" she muttered. Finding it, she shook her hand and found herself some oatmeal. Once the tea was ready, she got two mugs out and poured tea for both herself and Jamie. "Sorry I snapped at you, Jamie, I'm just not very nice in the morning," she reasoned.

"I understand, lass," he answered. "Now what's goin' on?"

Her eyes narrowed.

"How are you?"

Attempting to make small talk, she realized. That usually happened when someone couldn't bring themselves to ask a difficult question.

"Look Jamie," she set the mugs down on the table and slid into a chair across from him. "Just ask the question."

"Ah…"

"Really, I don't mind."

Jamie took a gulp of tea. "What happened that night? The night me and the Doctor found you covered in dirt by the road?"

Her hand went to her forehead. "Oh dear…" she breathed. "All you need to know Jamie, are three things. First things first, my father is a bastard, he stuck his hand down my top and tried to hand me off to one of his friends as a post-coital gift, and he beat me and my mother everyday until she died. So I left, I'm putting myself through school, and frankly I don't want to go back."

"He did what?" his eyes were now glowing. There was that Scotsman rage seeping through.

"Exactly what I just said."

"I'll kill 'im," Jamie's hand went to the knife resting in its holster attached to his leg. "If I ever meet him I'll kill 'im."

"No, Jamie, don't," she laid her hand over his and squeezed. "If you do that you'll be no better than what he was."

"But…"

"Please, just let bygones be bygones," she pleaded. It would do no good to exact revenge on her father, especially not if she was not going to see him again. It was nice that Jamie would get so upset on her behalf, but it wasn't really any point in going after a drunk who did not understand that what he'd done was wrong.

"I'm really sorry, lass," he offered, moving his other hand back to the table. "Any father who does that to anyone can nae call himself a man nor a father. I can see why ye wanted to come with me and the Doctor."

She nodded. Getting up, she placed her tea mug in the sink and went back to her room. She'd buried her feelings inside for so long she thought nothing of pushing what she'd just told Jamie to the back of her mind.

She let her head fall into her hands, and, taking a few deep breaths, stuck her earphones in her ears, closed her eyes and waited. It was only a few minutes later that she heard a gentle humming sound, and a baseball bat and a piece of hard foam appeared by her bed.

"Thanks Old Girl," she whispered, stroking the TARDIS wall above her bed. "I don't need it, not right now," she said.

There was a knock at the door.

"Come in."

The Doctor appeared on the other side. "Hello Bridget."

"Oh, hello Doctor," she put the music on pause and unhooked herself from her device. "What's going on?"

"Just came to see how you're doing," he shut the door halfway and waited to see what she'd do next.

"Come sit down," she placed her hand on the bed. "What's going on?"

"I wanted to ask you about Jamie."

"What about him?"

"How do you feel about him?"

"Well," she took a deep breath. "He's a good man. A good listener, a noble fighter, and…" she took another deep breath. "Really very handsome," she admitted.

The Doctor chuckled.

"Frankly I don't know what to think," Bridget ran a hand through her hair. "Did he tell you what he offered to do for me?"

"I haven't spoken to him yet."

"Just as well, I asked him not to," she continued. "Doctor, tell me, what did you really want to talk about?"

"As I said, you and Jamie," he told her. "I noticed something when you were dancing yesterday, he was closer to you than you'd ever allowed him before, and I didn't see you flinch or push him away."

"What did you expect then?"

"Well in truth I thought you'd push him away and then run."

"Because that's typical behaviour for someone who's been through what I've been through?" she filled in the blank. "Look, it happened, and I can't change it. I mean, I could ask you to take me back in time to when I was thirteen and tell him no, but it would change the whole of my timeline."

"How do you know that?"

"I've heard you say it enough," she reasoned. "You've said that time is in flux but some events are fixed. Isn't that one fixed? Wasn't that one always going to happen to me because no one can control time like that?"

"Not as such, no," the Doctor answered. "No one deserves to be put through that."

"Well I was, now let's stop talking about it, alright?" she bit her tongue, realizing how close she'd been to losing her temper, something that had never happened before. "Sorry."

He nodded.

"Look, Doctor," she took another deep breath. "You are Jamie help me feel safe. And I think Jamie is a wonderful human being, he's done more for me in being my friend than anyone I've ever known, and you… well I don't need to really explain how you've helped, do I? It's pretty much self- explanatory."

He nodded again.

"Look at you all smug!"

"Who said anything about smug?"

She smiled. "No one, I'm kidding," she got up and straightened her top. "Oh, Doctor," she stopped him before he left her room. "Do you think we could stop off near my house? I want to visit my mother. If it's not too much trouble."

"Never any trouble," he agreed. As she checked herself over in the mirror and replaced her headphones in her ears, she felt the TARDIS land. Going back through the console room, she opened the TARDIS doors to see they had landed near her house. Shaking her head, she walked away from the house and toward the cemetery. If her father had done nothing else right, he'd given her mother a proper burial. And for that she was thankful, even if she didn't know how he'd gotten his hand on the money to do so.

The Doctor and Jamie followed behind her, and waited as she stopped to buy a small bunch of flowers. When she approached the cemetery, and found her mother's headstone, she laid the flowers down and sank to her knees.

"I love you, Mum," she whispered, tracing her mother's name. Jamie and the Doctor stayed well back, but Jamie was sure he saw a few tears rolling down her cheeks.

Getting up, she walked solemnly back to the Doctor and Jamie, and collapsed, sobbing, into Jamie's waiting arms.

"Okay, lass," he whispered, scooping her up and carrying her back to the TARDIS, the Doctor following close behind. Unlocking the door, Jamie carried her back to her room, gently laid her on the bed.

"Jamie," he heard as he moved toward the door.

"Aye."

"Don't leave," she pleaded. "Please?"

"Is not right, lassie."

"Just sit on the bed?" she pleaded again. "Please?"

In the end, he stayed. As rigid as his upbringing in that regard had been, one where you were not to be in a lady's room with her alone unless you were married, he couldn't deny her the comfort she so desperately needed, even if he just sat beside her. He didn't even so much as touch her shoulder, he just sat there, and when she'd fallen asleep, he went back out to the console room, where he saw the Doctor fiddling with a few buttons and knobs.

"How is she?"

"Asleep," Jamie answered. "Look, I dinnae ken what happened there. She asked me t' stay with her."

"And did you?"

"Aye."

"Then you did the right thing," he confirmed. "That was extremely difficult for all of us, and I'm proud of you both."

"I didnae do anything remarkable," Jamie insisted.

"You were there for her," the Doctor corrected. "After she walked away from her mother's marker you were there for her. You carried her back to her room without even stopping to think about how much pain you were in, and you were in pain, that was a long walk back. _That's _remarkable, Jamie McCrimmon."

"If ye say so," he said, still not convinced.

"Now, what say you take a look at that scanner for me, hmm?" he asked, hoping to distract Jamie until Bridget woke up.

Jamie did as the Doctor asked, but even he could see it.

"I'm no in love with her, Doctor."

"Hmm?"

"I said I'm no…"

"Yes I heard you, Jamie," the Doctor fiddled with another knob. "Ah there we are!"

"Then why d'ya ask me to repeat meself?"

"No reason."

"Ah, but Doctor…"

"I never said you were."

"Eh?"

"I never said you were in love with her, Jamie," he answered. "I just think you're curious."

"Curious?"

"About her, and what happened to her. I saw the way she smiled when you two danced last night. She was smiling and laughing, and I've never seen her do either."

"Well what's that supposed to prove?"

"That she's curious too."

"So?"

"My dear boy, don't you see?" the Doctor put his hands on Jamie's shoulders. "You're _good _for her. You're helping her to heal and be a better person! She told me herself, your friendship has helped her immensely, and what you did just now? Sitting with her? It proved to her you care, that you respect her."

"But…"

"_You are good for her_, Jamie McCrimmon, and I will not hear otherwise," the Doctor finished fiddling and allowed the TARDIS to take flight again. "Now where should we go next?"

"Oh you know you can't control this thing," Bridget came into the control room, rubbing her eyes. "Where are we going?"

"Oh I should think we're in the vortex right now," the Doctor answered. "We'll let the TARDIS decide where she wants to go."

"Is that safe?"

"Oh I should think so, for the moment at least."

"Somehow that's not very reassuring," she muttered. "Anyway, I just wanted to thank you both."

"What for?"

"For letting me see my mother," she told him. "If nothing else I just wanted to say goodbye. She deserved that much."

"I could never deny anyone wishing to see their parent the right to do so," the Doctor acknowledged her thanks. "Unless it were dangerous."

"What damage could visiting a cemetery do?" Jamie asked.

"None, especially if one's just laying flowers, that's why it wasn't any trouble," he started fiddling with the controls again. "Now let's see what's going on."

The TARDIS shook violently, sending all three of them sprawling to the floor in a heap of clothing and surprise.

**ooOoo**

They picked themselves up ten minutes later, Bridget emerging first and holding her side.

"Oh those were my ribs," she coughed. "You guys alright?"

"Aye," Jamie sputtered. "Just let me re-inflate me lungs and…" he coughed violently as he stood up and caught his balance while holding on to the console. "Okay, I'm fine."

"Glad to hear it," the Doctor bounced back up like an eager puppy and checked the scanner once again. "Wait a minute… oh my!"

"Oh my what?" Bridget's eyes went wide, rushing to his side, and instantly regretting it. She was sure she had a few bruised ribs, but nothing was broken. She'd known broken ribs and other limbs before, so it was definitely just bruising.

"Jamie, Bridget, I do believe we've landed…"

"Well of course we have! We nae would've fallen about like that if we hadn't!" Jamie answered, rubbing the back of his head.

"Thank you Captain Obvious," Bridget spat at the Highlander. "Where are we, Doctor?"

"Well my dear, it seems that…" he checked the scanner for the fifteenth time that minute, "we're nowhere."


	4. Kings and Queens

**Emo Naom: Nope, not a BBV reference. Just an expression I use from time to time. Thank you for the review.**

**A/N: Another adventure for Jamie, the Doctor, and Bridget. Don't want to spoil where they are, you must read to find out. And feel free to leave a review, the door is always open. And just a warning for a few little swears (and if they seem out of character, please tell me).**

**ooOoo**

_We were the kings and queens of promise, we were the victims of ourselves. Maybe the children of a lesser god, between heaven and hell. Heaven and hell. _

_Kings and Queens- 30 Seconds to Mars_

**ooOoo**

"What do you mean, we're nowhere?"

"Well that's just it, Bridget, we're nowhere."

"Oh for God's sake…" she shook her head. "Open the doors Doctor."

"But we don't know what's out there! For all we know we could be crushed to death soon as we're out the doors!" Jamie protested.

"Shut up Jamie," she told him. "Come on Doctor, open the doors."

"It's on your head," the Doctor shrugged and opened the door. Stepping outside, Bridget coughed immediately.

"We're not nowhere!" she called back to them, excitement in her voice. "Jamie, Doctor, come look!"

The two men looked at each other and bolted to her side.

"Och, Doctor, where are we?" Jamie covered his mouth, trying not to breathe in the oil and smoke in the air.

"No, Bridget you're right, we're not nowhere. This is London!"

"London?" Jamie sputtered. "This cannae be London! It's dark and dirty and…"

"Ah but Jamie, don't you see? This is 1850s London, we're right in the middle of the Industrial Revolution!"

"The what?"

"The Industrial Revolution! This is when people moved away from farming and moved into the cities and starting working in factories. Oh this is fascinating!"

"Well never mind that. Why would we wanna be in a place where everyone's packed together like sardines?"

"Don't insult sardines, Jamie, that's not very nice."

"You're a wee cunt, you know that?" he smiled at Bridget.

Bridget grinned and stuck her tongue between her teeth. "Yep," she popped the 'p'. "And you're a fucktard," she laughed. Grabbing his hand, she pulled him toward a building. "Come on, let's go see!"

"Now hold on you two!" the Doctor called after them, chuckling. Shutting the TARDIS doors, he threw on a light jacket and shoved the key in his pocket.

"Bridget, yer gonna pull me over!" Jamie laughed. They ran around the corner to see a young child sitting on a barrel, her face covered in dirt and her clothes ragged.

"Spare a half penny, Miss?" she asked, holding out her hand.

"Oh you poor dear," Bridget dug in her pocket. "How old are you?"

"I'm seven, Miss," the young girl answered. "Do you 'ave a half penny? I only wanna buy a loaf of bread."

"Oh a half penny won't get you a loaf of bread love, you need at least 5 or 10 pence for that," Jamie told her. Bread would have cost him about that much in his time, he didn't see how it would make much difference now. Then again, he didn't pay attention to things like that, never really saw cause to do so.

"But I've saved up, sir, I really have," the girl dug into the front pocket of her apron and produced a few pathetic looking half pennies and shillings. Thinking twice about flashing any sort of coins about, she shoved the coins back in her pocket immediately.

"Oh now, let me see…" Bridget rummaged around and found what she was looking for. "Ah ha, come on love, I'll get it for you."

"Oh no, I couldn't ask ye to do that! If my da sees you buying me bread he'll beat me."

"What for?"

"For getting a stranger to buy fo' me, says it looks bad on 'im."

"Well we're not strangers if we know each other's names," Bridget held out her hand. "My name is Bridget and this is my friend Jamie. What's your name?"

"My name is Samantha," she squeaked.

"Aye then, you see, we're not strangers no more," Jamie smiled. "Come on lassie, ye look dead on yer feet. I'll give ye a ride on me back."

Samantha's face lit up. Jamie hoisted her on his back and the trio set off for the bakery.

"Jamie, go faster!" she cried in delight.

"I cannae go any faster, lassie. I'll hurt meself!" he huffed. "Och, how far away is this place?"

"It's over there!" Samantha pointed. Jamie turned, holding her behind the knees and smiled. The three of them approached the bakery, Bridget opened the door for them and waited as they approached the bar.

"What can I get for ye, sir?" the man asked.

"He's only carrying me!" came Samantha's voice.

"Oh it's our Samantha!" a lady appeared beside the man behind the counter. "What can I get for you, love?"

"Loaf of bread please. Ma and little 'uns is going awful hungry,"

"Of course love," she went to the back and produced a loaf for her. "Baked fresh just this mornin'. Go on, off ye go."

"Oi, yer not leaving till ye pay for that," the man protested.

"She's a child, you know she doesn't have the money."

"If we let her go with free food we'll have to start doin' it for everybody. Now, that's sixpence, if ye please."

"But I haven't got sixpence," Samantha answered, holding tighter to Jamie's broad shoulders.

"Oh it's fine, I've got the money," Bridget put the money down on the counter. "There, it's paid down."

"Thank ye, Miss," the man took the money and put it in his pocket. "Now Samantha, off ye go, and don't be hurting this poor lad by hanging on his back like a wee monkey."

"Okay," Jamie carried the girl out of the shop, Bridget following close behind. Once back outside, Jamie gently let the girl's feet touch the ground.

"Bye bye!" she beamed, giving Jamie a kiss on the cheek and hugging Bridget around the waist. It struck her just how much shorter the little girl was. "Thank you!" she called behind her as she ran.

Jamie and Bridget both chuckled. As they walked back toward the TARDIS, Bridget felt Jamie's arm slink around her waist and his hand coming to rest on her hip. Frankly she'd never felt so protected.

They reached their destination, only to find they couldn't open the door. Knocking loudly, she hoped perhaps the Doctor was still inside and could hear them. "Doctor?" she called.

Nothing.

"Fuck!" she swore under her breath. She turned, finding she couldn't move. "Uh... Jamie, your arm is around my waist."

"Aye so it is," he acknowledged. "Does it bother ye, lass?"

"No, but people are staring," she whispered. "I'm sure that's got to look sinful."

Sure enough, she was right. They were stopped by an elderly man who nearly tore Jamie's a new one for having his arm around a woman in such a manner, and in public, you should be ashamed, sir. His tirade stopped almost immediately when Jamie stated that Bridget was indeed his wife, and that there was no need to get so upset. The man still threatened to cane him for such cheek, but in the end left them alone.

As the old man walked away, Bridget brought a hand to her mouth, turned and fell against Jamie's shoulder, trying to stifle her laughter. Jamie touched his forehead to hers and laughed with her. He'd never seen someone react that violently to something as simple as holding another person. It seemed so strange it was comical. Throughout their laughter Jamie decided to take a chance, and gently kissed her.

Surprised, Bridget found she couldn't, and didn't want to, fight it. She leaned into him, her mouth gently opening to allow him access. With footsteps approaching the two of them pulled away, Bridget placing a finger to Jamie's lips.

"Let's not tell anyone about that, hmm?" she whispered, grinning.

"Ah you two," the Doctor came from behind him, slowly his steady jog to a stop.

"Och, where have you been?" Jamie asked.

"Well I went for a walk, it seemed a nice enough day," he answered. "What did you get up to then?"

Jamie and Bridget turned to each other, chuckling.

**ooOoo**

That night, Bridget crawled into bed, only to find herself tossing and turning. That simple gesture played in her head over and over. She knew it was wrong, but it had felt right at the time. Jamie was a friend, and she'd kissed him. Friend equaled good, kissing friend equaled bad, bad equaled not good.

Getting up, she fumbled in her dresser for a few pairs of scissors and some darts. The scissors, well, she'd never used them for self- mutilation, she'd never done it and had no plans to start, but when using darts one does tend to get bored and is always in need of finding something else to throw at a dartboard.

Taping a photograph to the board, she opened the scissors, stepped back from the board, and hurled said tool. They landed precisely where she aimed. Smiling, she placed the remaining scissors and darts on her bed, left her bedroom and went into the console room to find the Doctor still hard at work.

"Throwing darts again, are we?" he didn't look up.

"Absolutely," she answered. "Scissors this time."

"Hmm…" he answered. "I don't wish to intrude, Bridget, but there are healthier ways of dealing with anger you know."

"It was either that or someone was going to die a horrible and painful death," she rubbed her eye and sat in his chair while he checked the scanner again. "And frankly I like you and Jamie too much for that."

"It's comforting to know neither he nor I will ever be on the receiving end of a thrown pair of scissors."

"Ha ha, you're funny," she quipped in response, crossing her arms over her chest. "Are you really working or are you just trying to avoid looking at me?" she interjected.

He stopped, looking up to meet her eyes.

"Look, I know it's difficult," she got up and went to his side. He adverted his eyes. "Doctor, look at me."

He coughed, moving his hand to a knob.

She caught his hand and held it still. "Doctor, please look at me."

With her grip on his hand he couldn't avoid it any longer. He forced himself to look at her, a pained expression in his eyes.

"You don't have to treat me like a child, Doctor," her hand moved to his cheek, resting there. "I know it's difficult not to think of me as an abused child, but we need to move past that," she insisted.

"I…"

She put a finger to his lips to silence him. "Please, just listen to me," she stared at him intently. "What happened will always be there, but you need to start treating me like a woman. I'm not a scared little girl hiding in the cupboard every time I hear a man approaching anymore. I'm not going to break if I know you're wondering. If you want to ask me what happened or how I'm dealing with it, just ask me."

He nodded slowly.

"There, now you can talk," she moved her finger.

"I think you should head back to bed," he told her. "We've got a long day tomorrow."

"Don't avoid it, Doctor, because one day it's going to come out," she whispered. "Just promise me that you'll not treat me as though you're walking on eggshells all the time."

He nodded, his auburn curls bobbing in the dimmed lights of the TARDIS.

"Thank you," she gently kissed his cheek and went off toward her room once again.

But instead she didn't head to her own room. She walked until she found Jamie's room. It seemed the TARDIS could shift rooms when she was bored, even if people were still in them. In this instance, Bridget guessed, she must have known she needed someone, and that someone just happened to be Jamie.

She opened the door quietly and slipped into his room. She approached his bed to find him on his side, sleeping soundly.

"Jamie?" she whispered, gently shaking his shoulder.

He moaned.

"Jamie?" she repeated.

He moaned again and turned over to see Bridget staring at him.

"What's a matter, lass?" he murmured sleepily, not at all awake.

"Had a nightmare," she told him.

"Was just a bad dream, lassie, go back to bed," he grumbled, turning back over and wrapping the blankets back around his shoulders.

"Can I sleep in here with you?" she pleaded.

"Och it's not proper, lass."

Clearly he was not a happy person when woken. "I don't want to go back to my room," she answered. "Please, just for one night? I'll even lie on top of the blanket. I just don't think I could sleep alone tonight."

She saw him roll his eyes and shift over to the other side of the bed. Bridget slipped in beside him and turned over, lying with her back to him.

It wasn't too long after that he realized she was shivering. Jamie pulled one of his extra blankets up and over her. But he noticed that even with the blanket she was still shivering, Gently, he moved closer toward her and wrapped his arms around her waist.

Once they'd settled in together, Bridget snuggled further under the blanket and fell asleep, feeling Jamie's breath across her shoulder.

And that night she dreamt of him.


	5. The Great Beyond

**Emo Naom: This story deals with some mature subject matter and things can get heated, though I'll try my best to keep it at a T rating. However, a few chapters will need to be upgraded to an M, but those ones come later, and I will let you know which ones those are. As of right now I'm not entirely sure if I'll have to bump the rating, we'll have to wait and see. Thank you for the review.**

**A/N: This chapter looks at Bridget's past. Warning for some upsetting subject matter (but it is essential to the story). I've tried to keep it tasteful. Please feel free to leave a review, the door is always open.**

**ooOoo**

_I want the hummingbirds and dancing bears, sweetest dreams of you… I'm looking to the stars, I'm looking to the moon… I'm pushing an elephant up the stairs, I'm tossing out punch lines that were never there, over my shoulder a piano falls, crashing to the ground. I'm breaking through, I'm bending spoons, I'm keeping flowers in full bloom, I'm looking for answers from the great beyond_

_The Great Beyond- R.E.M._

**ooOoo**

Bridget awoke a few hours later to find herself still in Jamie's arms. Smiling, she pulled away slightly, twisting her head to see him still asleep.

Realizing that he would not be releasing her anytime soon, she snuggled back into his embrace and dozed off. Relishing the feeling of Jamie's arms around her, she realized she was quite content to stay there all day.

But, as the saying goes, one must rise and shine at some point. Gently nudging Jamie, she saw him stir.

"Jamie," she whispered. "Jamie we've got to get up…"

He moaned, released her and turned over onto his back. Running a hand down his face, he exhaled and forced himself out of the bed. Bridget soon followed suit, and, saying nothing more, left the room to let him shower and dress in peace.

Upon returning to her own room, she stepped in the shower and stayed there till she felt the hot water run out. It was nice, actually, not having to worry about anything at that point. Why had the Doctor said they had a long day ahead? According to her alarm clock it was well after 10 in the morning, and they had not been doing anything at all. Perhaps he had said that just so she would stop talking. Frankly it had been a thoroughly philosophical discussion that had no place being discussed at 2AM. But alas, it had been, and that was that.

She went into the kitchen to find the Doctor warming his hands on a mug of tea. That was his philosophy through and through, a mug of hot tea makes everything better.

"Good morning," she yawned, pulling her hair back in a ponytail.

"Good morning my dear," the Doctor smiled. "Sleep well?"

"Yeah, I did," she answered.

Why were they tip toeing around each other like two people who'd just had a one night stand?

Jamie came into the kitchen already dressed. Ruffling his hair, he yawned as well.

"Did we over exert ourselves last night? Is that why we're all yawning like hippos?"

"Eh?" Jamie looked at him sideways.

"Oh never mind," the Doctor went to the teapot and poured two more mugs.

"Doctor, stop stepping around the subject," Bridget took the tea and took a cautious sip. "If you want to know if Jamie and I slept together, the answer is no."

"Och now wait a minute, yes we did. We shared the same bed!"

"No no, Jamie, I mean sex," Bridget clarified. "And we both know that didn't happen."

"Oh aye, damn right that dinnae happen," he answered, nodding as he placed his hand on his belt. "I'd nae dishonour her like that, Doctor."

Bridget snorted to keep herself from laughing out loud. "I don't have any honour left to speak of, Jamie," she sipped her tea again. "My father's friend took that from me a long time ago."

Jamie choked, sending tea everywhere, including hitting Bridget's top.

"Oh thank you, that's exactly what I needed, a tea bath," she wiped at her shirt with one hand.

"I'm terribly sorry, Bridget," Jamie added as the Doctor handed her his handkerchief. "Please tell me that's not true."

"Sorry to disappoint," she finished cleaning her shirt and handed the handkerchief back. "Apparently when one is intoxicated a 13 year old girl looks appetizing."

"Did no one try to stop it?"

"My dad threatened the guy off with a gun," she answered. "But then it never stopped."

"That's alright, Bridget, you don't need to say anything more," the Doctor stopped her.

She cleared her throat, nodding. "Well I guess that's all there is to say about that."

"Bridget…"

"Thanks but no thanks, Jamie," she nudged his hand off her shoulder. "Now you know the truth. I expect you'll be wanting me out of your hair for a while."

"Wait!"

She didn't give him time to respond. Moving rather quickly from the kitchen back into the hallway. She heard footsteps behind her, but refused to look back. If she could just make it back to her room, she could deal with this in peace.

"Bridget, wait!"

He caught up to her just in time for her to shut the door in his face.

He knocked on the door a minute later, opening it to find her earphones in and the music on loud enough for him to hear it.

"Bridget?"

"I don't want to talk to you right now," she told him. "I really don't, Jamie."

"I no want to fight with ye, lass."

"Then leave me alone," she spat, turning away from him.

He didn't move.

"The door is that way," she pointed toward the hallway.

"We should talk about this," he insisted.

"Jamie…" she grit her teeth. "I don't want to talk to you right now. If you don't want me to throw something at you I suggest you clear out!" she got up and went over to her bookcase. Selecting a large hardcover, she got back onto the bed and opened it, flipping through the pages quickly.

Jamie, recognizing a lost cause, got up and went toward the door. Looking back at her with her nose buried in the book, he closed the door as he went out. Going back out to the console room, he threw up his hands and placed them on his hips.

"She's impossible, Doctor."

He chuckled. "Oh Jamie, of course she is."

"Eh?"

"She's 22 years old, why wouldn't she be impossible?"

"I'd thought she'd have more common sense."

"Common sense doesn't develop at an alarming rate. And anyway I don't think that's why you think she's impossible."

"Well then, you tell me."

"She doesn't want to talk about it so you automatically assume she's impossible. Tell me, would _you _want to talk about being continually molested to someone who's almost a complete stranger, and one who's a man, at that?"

The proverbial light bulb switched on. "Well I never thought of it like that."

"You're not stupid, Jamie, but sometimes your lack of sensitivity astounds me."

"That's no' my fault," he answered. "Fighting on th' moors ye got no time for bein' sensitive. The one time ye do that is the time some damn redcoat shoots ye dead."

"Yes that's true enough, but I think sometimes you forget you're not on the moors anymore, " the Doctor reasoned. "Bridget's not a redcoat, she won't shoot you for just being a Highlander as they might, but give her cause and I'd say you'd have deserved having something hit you in the forehead."

"Ye mean, ye…" Jamie pointed toward the hallway.

"Yes I heard every word of that little exchange of yours," he nodded once.

"Well then ye must have heard…"

"I heard her telling you she didn't want to talk to you, and you being persistent," the Doctor told him. "I am not going to take sides, if that is what you're looking for. Whatever quarrel you two have, you'll have to work it out amongst yourselves."

They were interrupted by Bridget's cry of "Oh my God!"

Wide eyed, the Doctor and Jamie rushed toward the sound of her voice. Busting open a door, they found her smiling at the wonder that was a room filled with gym equipment.

"There's a trampoline!" she seemed almost childlike in how happy she was at this new discovery. Kicking off her shoes, she ran into the room and nearly pole-vaulted herself on to the apparatus.

"Don't scare me like that," Jamie breathed.

"Oh stop being a baby," Bridget joked, jumping and landing on her derriere, only to bounce right back up again.

"What are ye supposed to do on this thing?"

"You jump on it," Bridget crawled over the trampoline toward them, and grabbed Jamie's hand. Pulling him up, he struggled to find his balance. "Oh come on, Jamie, don't tell me you've never been on a trampoline before."

"Can't say that I 'ave."

"Oh now that's a shame," she stood up and bounced lightly on the balls of her feet. Delighting in the fact that something so simple as a trampoline could unnerve the Highlander, she jumped and landed on her feet, causing Jamie to topple over.

"Och, now what did ye do that for?"

"Because I could," she giggled. "Come on, I'll help you up, and you'll be jumping in no time."

"It's no goin' t' hurt me, is it?"

"Of course it isn't," she held on to his hand until he found his balance. Smirking, she could feel his grip tightening. "Ready?"

He steeled himself.

"One… two… three… jump!"

And they did, both of them landing swiftly but softly on their derrieres.

"Excellent!" the Doctor clapped once. "See Jamie, that wasn't so bad."

"Aye, but it's yer bottom that hurts afterward," he conceded, placing a hand over his coccyx.

"What are you talking about? That didn't hurt," Bridget got back up again, bouncing to keep her legs from seizing.

"Speak for yourself."

"Alright I will," she jumped and landed on her bottom again, this time her momentum forced her to bounce until gravity took its toll.

As Jamie maneuvered his way off the trampoline, Bridget stifled a giggle.

"What are ye laughing at now?" he asked as he rejoined the Doctor on solid ground.

"Nothing," although it was clear to both Jamie and the Doctor that she was lying.

"Come on, out with it."

"You just confirmed that the rumours are true."

"What rumours?"

"That you Scots don't wear anything under those kilts of yours."

Jamie blushed.

"Yes well, I suppose we've had enough for today, haven't we?" the Doctor held open the door and let Jamie out. "Coming Bridget?"

"Actually," she got down off the trampoline and stretched her leg out before reaching the Doctor. "If you don't mind, Doctor, I'll stay in here and work some stuff out."

"Of course," he smiled and went to the door himself. "I'll let you know when we've landed somewhere new."

"Alright," she waited until he shut the door before going back over to the punching bag that hung in the middle of the room. Finding the gloves that went with it, she first stuck her earphones in, put the playlist on shuffle, and then slipped the gloves on.

Pounding away at the punching bag, she felt the tension slip away with each hit.

"I don't like Jamie!" she insisted. "I don't! I don't! I don't!" she permeated each phrase with a hard hit to the foam. "I don't!" she kicked it this time.

Her breathing heavy, she took a much-needed break and sat down on the floor, taking the opportunity to stretch her legs and arms out.

She did like Jamie, and she knew it.

But did he like her?

And if this attraction were mutual, would it damage their already fragile relationship?

And was she will to take that chance?


	6. Whipping Boy

**Emo Naom: Here's an update for you. **

**A/N: A new and scary adventure for our TARDIS crew! Enjoy, and please feel free to leave a review, the door is always open.**

**ooOoo**

_Since then I never feel helpless, recess, this mess if you do. And I find that even time well spent gets bent if you need it to. And we do. Well by now I've showed you how much I believe in the here and now and I wish that you knew… lay all you want on me, lay all you want on me, lay all you want on me, I'll be your whipping boy_

_Whipping Boy- Train_

**ooOoo**

Satisfied with the fact that there was little more she could do in terms of the punching bag and the trampoline, she went to join Jamie and the Doctor in the console room. The TARDIS was bumping along, shaking and rattling about like it always did, and Bridget struggled to keep her balance.

"Where are we going?"

"I don't know, lass. Best to ask him," Jamie pointed to the Doctor.

"Behave!" she heard the Doctor shout at the console, hitting it with a rubber mallet.

The TARDIS shuddered and came to a full stop.

"That's better," he smiled.

"Oh now, did you have to do that?" Bridget asked. "She's done nothing but try to help you, did you have to hit her with a mallet?"

"She's getting old, Bridget," the Doctor explained. "She's had a lot of repairs, sometimes she doesn't work like she's supposed to."

"And the solution to that is hitting the console with a mallet?"

"More often than not, yes it is," the Doctor answered. "Now, let's see where we are…" He checked the scanner. "Hmm, well that's odd."

"What's odd?"

"The scanner is saying we're nowhere."

Bridget fought to keep herself from laughing out loud. "Sure… the last time the scanner said that we ended up in the Industrial Revolution. Are you sure the scanner is working at all?"

"No, no I'm not sure," he admitted. "But that's half the fun!" He opened the doors as Jamie and Bridget followed him out of the TARDIS, only to find themselves with swords held to their throats. "Except when that happens…"

The three of them held their hands up in surrender.

"Coigreach!"they heard a small boy shout.

"Strangers? We're no' gonna hurt ye," Jamie answered.

"Do you speak English?" the Doctor asked, his hands still in the air.

"Doctor, they're speaking in Gaelic!" Jamie told him.

"Do you remember all of it from when you were younger?"

"Of course I do," he insisted.

"Then can you kindly tell them that we are not here to hurt them and ask that they please take away these swords that they so perilously hold up to our necks?"

Jamie chuckled and did as the Doctor told him. Their captors lowered their swords and eyed Jamie suspiciously.

"Highlander?" they spat.

"Aye," he answered. "Now, could you tell us where we are? We're not here to hurt ye. We just got lost."

"No one just gets lost when they come to Axapta," they were told, their leader speaking in broken English. "You're here to spy!"

"Spy?" Bridget choked. "We're not spies, we're travelers. We just got lost," she repeated.

"You came in that blue box?"

"Aye," Jamie told them.

"There is not room for three in a box such as that."

"We manage," the Doctor offered. "A bit cozy, but it doesn't bother us. Does it bother you, Jamie?"

"Nae."

"Bridget?"

"Nope," she answered, understanding that they needed to play along with the Doctor's explanation if they wanted to escape with their lives. 'A bit cozy' did not describe the TARDIS at all, but it would do.

"Is the woman your mate?"

"Mate? What do you mean mate?" Bridget asked. "Do you mean friend?"

The Doctor leaned over and muttered in her ear.

Bridget's mouth went wide. Suddenly remembering Jamie's explanation to the old man in London to keep him from hauling Jamie off and caning him for having his arm around Bridget's waist in the middle of the street, she looked to Jamie.

His eyes locked with hers, and he nodded. It seemed he remembered the same thing. Anything to keep themselves from getting run through with a knife.

"I am Jamie's mate," she answered, pointing her thumb toward Jamie, secretly hoping they'd believe her.

"And who is this man?" they gestured toward the Doctor, who bent backward at the sight of a knife coming toward him.

"He's the Doctor."

"A romantic title," they spat. "Who is he?"

"I am the Doctor," he insisted, holding up a finger when they thrust the knife at him again, "but I am also a traveler. These are my friends, Jamie and Bridget. We got lost and landed here by mistake."

"There are no mistakes on Axapta, only those who wish to take from us and those who do not answer satisfactorily that die by our hands!"

"Oh well, I certainly hope we do not fit into those categories. I assure you, we are not here to take anything from you, and we certainly do not have a death wish."

"Nonsense! You shall be taken to the Queen, and she will decide what to do with you!"

The party holding them at knifepoint turned and began walking. All three of them breathing sights of relief, they put their arms down and walked behind them. So far things looked alright, they were not dead.

As they walked Bridget slipped her hand into Jamie's, hoping to at least have some sort of contact between them. Her eyes closed when she felt gentle pressure on her hand… Jamie was squeezing her hand in response.

"I'm really scared," she whispered to him.

"Aye, I am too," he agreed.

"Doctor, are you alright?" she asked.

"Yes I'm fine."

"What are they going to do to us?"

"I've never been here before, I have no idea."

"Oh perfect," she muttered. "We land on a planet whose population wants to knife us simply for landing here, we've being taken to its Queen and you have no idea what's she's going to do to us!"

"I don't think it'll be anything too severe," the Doctor told her. "We don't know what these people are like, or what their customs are. We cannot judge them too harshly."

Bridget couldn't hold back a laugh. "Oh that's rich."

"Quiet!" They shouted back at them. "We are nearly at the Citadel."

"Citadel?"

"Must be where the Queen lives." Jamie whispered.

"Thanks Captain Obvious, couldn't have figured that out for myself."

"We mustn't fight with each other," the Doctor hissed at them both. "If we want to save ourselves, this is the only way we could do it!"

"What happened to running back to the TARDIS and getting out of here _now_?"

"Now Bridget, do you really think we're going to get out of here that way? We're covered on all sides."

She rolled her eyes. Defeated, she resigned herself to walking with Jamie and the Doctor toward their fate.

**ooOoo**

They entered the Citadel and ordered to surrender their shoes. They must be brought to the Queen barefoot, so as to show their humility, they were told.

"What happens if she doesn't think we're humble enough?" Bridget asked as she peeled off her sock and stuffed it in the toe of her shoe, like you would do if you were at the public pool and wanted to keep your socks dry.

They weren't given an answer, just a blank stare. It was clear from the portraits of gruesome deaths painted on the walls that whatever it was, it wasn't pleasant. If the Queen of Axapta disapproved, you didn't expect to leave her presence alive.

The throne room was expansive, beautifully decorated with silks, satin, and a fair amount of paintings and large windows. Though the sun was shining, the windows seemed to block it out. Not the sort of thing you'd expect a window to do, but no matter. All that mattered to her was whether or not the Doctor would be able to use his great intelligence to get them out.

The Queen looked quite lovely, she noted. She seemed to have evolved from a cross between a dragonfly and a fairy. Petite, but nonetheless strong, she had a hardened look about her, almost as though she was made of stone.

"On your knees!" a guard landed a hard blow on Jamie's back, and Jamie's knees buckled beneath him. The Doctor and Bridget followed suit, their noses to the floor.

"Let them alone!" the Queen shouted, and the guards backed away. "You!" she shouted at the Doctor, pointing. "What is your purpose here?"

The Doctor looked up, not daring to get up unless told to do so. "We're travelers, Your Majesty," he answered. "My friends and I got lost and landed here. I swear to you we mean you no harm."

"What is your name?" she demanded.

"I am the Doctor," he answered.

"You may stand, Doctor," the Queen told him. "And as for your friends, why do they travel with you if you are not family?"

"They _are_ my family," the Doctor insisted. "Blood and biology does not determine who one's family is. Jamie and Bridget have traveled with me for quite some time."

The Queen did not look convinced.

"They are too young to travel with someone as old as you are," she observed.

"Oh now I wouldn't say that," he answered. "They are not as young as you may think."

"You may stand," she barked at Jamie and Bridget. The two of them did as they were told, Bridget wiping the dirt from her knees. "And what are your names?" she demanded of them.

"My name is Bridget," she sounded confident, but her voice wavered. How does one overcome the shock of meeting an alien queen for the first time?

"And you, boy?"

"I'm James Robert McCrimmon," he answered.

"And you are of which clan?"

"Oh," he looked down, seemingly only now remembering that he was still wearing his kilt and had not changed into trousers before leaving the TARDIS. Not that he liked trousers anyway. "The clan MacLaren, Your Majesty. Do you know them?"

It seemed like such a pointless question, asking an alien queen if she had heard of a Scottish clan that had almost been wiped out during a bloody battle on a planet millions of light years away over three hundred years before. Then again, on Axapta it seemed that almost everyone spoke Scottish Gaelic, so it could have been possible.

"A noble clan, if nothing else," she agreed. "The descendants of the clan MacLaren came here many years ago."

"What?" the Doctor asked himself. "Forgive me, Your Majesty, but how is that possible? Humans have not yet developed such means of travel."

"Human?" she laughed. "The clan MacLaren of Axapta are not human!"

"But I'm not from Axapta or whatever this place is," Jamie interrupted. "I'm from Earth! And so is Bridget!"

"Raise your voice again and so help me I'll strike you dead, young man!" the Queen roared. "Since you are of the clan MacLaren, you will be expected to fight."

"A McCrimmon never went down without a fight," he puffed his chest out.

"Oh no," the Queen pointed toward Bridget. "Her."

"What?" Bridget shouted, jumping toward Jamie.

"Ye can't do that, your Majesty." He wrapped his arms around Bridget and laid a hand on her hair. "A married women cannae fight."

The Queen eyed the two of them suspiciously.

"The woman is not your wife," she accused.

"What do ye mean, of course she is!" Jamie insisted, holding Bridget even tighter, as though trying to protect her from anything and everything.

"If this is so, why does she not bear the tartan cloth of the clan MacLaren?"

In traditional Scottish weddings the groom would pin a piece of tartan cloth to his bride's frock if she were marrying into his clan. Though brides were not obligated to wear the tartan 24 hours a day 7 days a week all year round, the Queen seemed to believe this was the custom. Perhaps that's what the clans on Axapta did.

"You are lying!" the Queen concluded, her eyes narrowing. "Since the woman is not your wife, she will fight in the coliseum tomorrow afternoon, and you will attend." The Queen snapped her fingers, and three of the biggest men Jamie had ever seen surrounded them. "Take the girl to the dungeons, and the men to the chambers!"

"Wait, wait!" the Doctor cried as his arms were wrenched behind him. "This battle, what does she need to do?"

"Oh it's quite simple, actually," was the answer. "If she defeats the one she is fighting, and is still alive by the end, she wins your freedom."

Jamie's eyes went wide as Bridget was dragged out of the throne room. Struggling against the hands that held him in place, he grit his teeth as he was forced to listen to her screams.

Suddenly the doors to the throne room closed, Bridget's screams stopped, and Jamie could only look on in horror.


	7. Get Out Alive

**Emo Naom: Oh no is right! Here is more**

**A/N: A healthy dose of adventure violence (not too graphic). And please feel free to leave a review, the door is always open**

**ooOoo**

_No time for goodbye, he said, as he faded away. Don't put your life in someone's hands, they're bound to steal it away. Don't hide your mistakes, cause they'll find you, burn you, then he said… If you wanna get out alive, hold on for your life. If you wanna get out alive, hold on for your life_

_Get Out Alive- 3 Days Grace_

**ooOoo**

Bridget fought, kicking and screaming until the bars of her cell slid open and she was thrown into it rather unceremoniously. Coughing and spitting out grit, she turned over on to her side only to hear the bars clang shut.

Picking herself up, she threw herself against the bars and grunted in frustration.

"Let me out!" she screamed. "I didn't do anything! Let me out!"

Nothing. It was utterly silent.

"Let me out!" she screamed again.

And still nothing but silence…

**ooOoo**

Jamie and the Doctor were thrown by the scruff of their necks into a chamber with no windows and a door that did not open from the inside. Being deprived of one's senses could do serious psychological damage to one's mind, but Jamie had been through this before. Bridget, however, well she'd gone through hell in a hand basket but that was nothing compared to what she'd been ordered to do.

Pushing himself up, Jamie ran toward the door and threw himself into it, his shoulder popping.

"Don't do anything to injure yourself any more than you are," the Doctor sat down on a bare bench and waited. "Have you dislocated your shoulder?"

"No, no, it's alright," he answered, rubbing and rotating it backward. "But we've got to find a way out of here!" his eyes were wide.

"There's nothing we can do, Jamie," the Doctor told him.

"Well what about Bridget?"

"Again, there's nothing we can do," was the answer. "Sorry you don't like it."

"Aye, well you damn well know I don't like it," Jamie growled. "How am I supposed to take it? 'Och by all means make her fight?' That's no way to treat a lady! What's more, we're stuck in here while poor Bridget is stuck in a dungeon and they want her to fight to the death!"

"I know," the Doctor put a hand on the Highlander's shoulder. "But losing our tempers will do more harm than good. We've got to find a way out of here before we can rescue Bridget."

"But how do we get out? The door doesn't open from the inside."

"Yes, but look at the hinges on the door, Jamie," the Doctor pointed. "You'd think that if they didn't want people to try to escape, they'd install hinges that swing outward…"

"What exactly are ye thinking?"

The Doctor fumbled in his pocket and produced the sonic screwdriver. "They're never had anyone escape from here, have they?"

"That's what they said…"

"But…" he wiggled the screwdriver between his thumb and forefinger. "I wonder…"

He made his way to the door and pointed the sonic screwdriver toward the hinges.

Nothing.

He banged the end against his open palm and tried again.

Nothing.

"It's no use, Doctor," Jamie muttered, his chin resting on his hands as he sat cross-legged on the floor. "We're stuck."

And then, about fifteen minutes later, it started.

The screaming.

They could hear Bridget screaming, and there was more than four floors separating them. The dungeon was located, as most dungeons are, in the bowels of the Citadel, but the chamber in which they were being held was four floors up.

"Stop it! It hurts!" they could hear her screaming. In his mind's eye Jamie could see her curled into a ball, her hands ever her ears, trying to block out whatever they were running through her head. "Stop it!" she screamed the same phrase again. "Jamie! Doctor! Make it stop! It hurts! It hurts! Stop!" she begged.

"They're torturing her!" Jamie seethed. "Who's the coward that would do such a thing to an innocent girl?" he shouted at the door, getting up and banging his fists on the door. "Let me out!" he shouted. "Ye Sassenachs! No one deserves such treatment! The redcoats treated us better than tha'! Ye got no right to treat us like this! Let us out!"

"Jamie," the Doctor got up and gripped him by the shoulders, leading him away from the door. Sitting him back down on the floor, they slumped against the wall. "There is nothing we can do. We'll have to wait till morning."

"But Bridget…"

"I know, and it's utterly repugnant, but we have no way out."

"Ye mean, yer giving up?"

"No I am not giving up," the Doctor insisted. "But until the morning we can't do anything but wait," he repeated

That night was by far the longest night of Jamie McCrimmon's life. He could only sit as Bridget's screams pierced his ears every minute and a half, and for about a minute she'd go quiet, but then it would start again. He and the Doctor spent the night holding each other, as though frightened they would disappear if they didn't. Neither slept, but then again, they knew the attempt would have been useless.

It seemed a lifetime when the door opened. A large, burly looking man whose hands were the size of supper plates stood in the shadow.

"Move!" he commanded them.

Rubbing their eyes and slowly picking themselves up, they were shoved out the door and led outside.

"Where are you taking us?"

"Silence!" the man shouted.

They entered the coliseum, but there was no sign of Bridget. Instead, they were led into the stands to sit with the local population. It seemed the entire city (or province, or state, or wherever they were, neither of them could tell), turned up to see the human female battle the Axaptan champion who had killed many in the Queen's name.

From where he sat Jamie could see blood smattered on the walls, rotting meat scattered among discarded bone.

"And other planets consider humans barbaric," the Doctor muttered under his breath.

"Any chance we could make a break for it?"

The Doctor quickly looked around, seeing all the exits guarded and Bridget dressed in rags and clutching her arms, trying to keep herself warm. Even from where he was sitting, Jamie could see the fear in her eyes. He knew, from what little she had divulged, that she'd never hurt anyone who didn't effing well deserve it, and here she was, being told she was to kill for sport.

Barbaric, the whole lot of them.

Jamie bit his tongue to keep from spewing obscenities as Bridget was led into the middle of the coliseum and presented to the Queen. He watched as they kicked her behind the knees and threw her into the dirt. With the crowd booing and hissing, she picked herself up and shot them a glance.

Once the Axaptan champion had been presented, a woman named… well Jamie couldn't tell what her name was since it must have used close to twenty letters just to spell it out correctly, Bridget was thrown into the heat of battle.

And bear it well she did. The Doctor and Jamie could see the courage she had summoned in order to defeat this other woman who was so much more experienced and had the look of someone who had taken a life before. Several lives in fact. Still, Bridget ran at her, brandishing a dirk, and tackled the woman to the ground. They wrestled for a good ten minutes, aiming hard kicks, punches, and bites into any part of the other's body that they could reach.

And then it happened.

Bridget had kicked the other woman between the legs and straddled her. Pining her and rendering her immobile, she held the dirk to the woman's throat. The entire coliseum had gone quiet, waiting to see if this stranger would actually go through with it.

The silence must have been deafening, even Jamie could hear the blood pounding in his ears. The entire audience was waiting with baited breath. The blade came down, and…

It was over. Bridget's opponent lay there dead, blood pouring from the clean cut across her neck.

Bridget backed away from the body, the dirk still raised over her shoulder, as though daring them to tempt her once again. She looked over to Jamie, wild green eyes locked with steady brown…

And she fainted.

**ooOoo**

She awoke four hours later to find herself lying on her bed, still in the dirty rags and blood splattered over her face. She had no idea how she'd gotten back to her room, much less on to her bed. And where were Jamie and the Doctor?

Sitting up, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and attempted to stand. Without any luck, she called for either Jamie or the Doctor, whoever was closest, to come and help her up.

Jamie got there first, saying nothing about how she looked, and instead did as she asked. He carried her to the bathroom and ran a bath. As he was getting ready to leave, she begged him not to go any farther than the outside of the bathroom door. Sighing, Jamie found a chair and a book and sat himself down.

"Jamie?" she called about 15 minutes later.

"Aye?"

"I need your help with something."

He smiled and chuckled to himself. "I cannae come in there while yer in the bath. It's not proper."

"Stuff propriety, Jamie, I said you could come in. All the important bits are covered anyway."

Shrugging his shoulders, he got up from his chair and opened the door. He saw Bridget had added bubbles and had rearranged them so that, as she had said, all the important bits were covered.

"What do ye need, lass?"

"I can't reach my back."

"And ye want me to do it? Why not ask the Doctor?"

"I don't want the Doctor to see me naked!" she looked offended. "He's like… well I don't know how old he is but he's significantly older than you are. I trust you, Jamie. I trust the Doctor too, but… do you understand what I mean?"

"Aye," he cast his eyes toward the floor.

"No need to be so ashamed, Jamie. I'm sure you've seen a naked body before. All I'm asking is that you help me wash my back. That's all." Honestly, she understood that in 1746 things were different, but when she'd given permission there was no need for him to be so shy about it. Even with her upbringing she knew the human body was nothing to be ashamed of (in theory of course, but everything sounded more reasonable in theory).

Jamie brought his eyes up and steeled himself. He held out his hand for the sponge and dipped it in the soapy water once she handed it to him. He was not an untouched man (at sixteen he'd had an 'encounter', as he would explain, and the girl's father had thrashed him and sent word to his Laird, who thrashed him again. He later found out she'd been sent off to become a nun). Admittedly the only other naked female body he'd ever seen was Polly's, and that was when he'd accidently walked in on her while she was getting out of the shower. She'd shouted at him to shut the door and knock the next time, but neither mentioned the incident again. Just one of those things, they decided.

He heard her hiss as the sponge touched her bare back, and he could see why. Her back was covered in open cuts and dirt. No doubt she'd bitten back a scream when she'd first gotten into the tub.

"Tell me if I'm pressing too hard," he placed a hand lightly on her shoulder.

"I will," she groaned, the hot water welcome but at the same time extremely painful. "Oh… be careful there," she whimpered as he ran the sponge around the middle of her back, accidently getting soap into a cut.

"Sorry," he told her, dipping the sponge into the water again.

"How'd I get back to the TARDIS?"

"Do ye not remember?"

"I don't remember anything past slicing that woman's throat. What happened?"

"Ye fainted," he answered simply. "I jumped out of the stands and carried you out of there fast as I could," he ran the sponge down her left shoulder, saw her tattoo, said nothing. "The Doctor got stuck for a few minutes, but the Queen let him go since he'd been freed thanks to you."

"I wish there'd been another way," she told him, hanging her head slightly.

"So do I," he told her sympathetically, gently lifting her hair and washing the back of her neck. "But you did what you had to do, no one is going to fault you for it."

"But I killed someone, Jamie. How am I to know if she had a family? What if I left her children without a mother? Her husband without a wife? I'm a murderer!"

"No you're not," he insisted, placing the sponge back in the water and placing his hands on her shoulders. Suddenly he didn't feel so awkward. She needed empathy and compassion, and whenever he needed reassurance, he felt more secure holding on to someone, to touch them, to know they weren't going to leave him. Perhaps she was the same way, he didn't know, and he wasn't going to try anything more than holding her shoulders. "She knew what she was doin'. You heard the Queen; she said that woman had killed over 400 in her name. You jus' happened to get the better o' her and did what ye needed to do t' survive."

"That still doesn't excuse the fact that someone is dead because of me."

"People die everyday," Jamie reasoned. "Now I don't believe in fate, but if ye tempt God too much, yer asking for it."

"No one deserves to die in such a way. She should have died an old woman in her sleep! Not with a slice in her neck!" Bridget placed a wet soapy hand over Jamie's on her shoulder. "I'm sorry Jamie, I'm not angry at you, I'm angry at myself. There should have been another way."

"Can't do anything about it now, lassie," he told her. He dropped the sponge into the water, which had turned colour with the amount of dirt and grime she'd scrubbed off. "Ready to get out now?"

"Yeah…" she waited for him to move back and placed her hands on the side of the tub. She tried to push herself up to a standing position, but found it nearly impossible. "I'm going to need your help, Jamie, I can't get up…"

"Aye," he turned his head but offered her his hand on the same time. He felt pressure on his hand as she pulled herself up and stepped out of the tub. Once she told him she was stable, he grabbed a towel and held it out. Taking it from her, she wrapped herself in the cloth and turned to him.

"Thank you," she told him.

"What for?"

"For listening," she dried herself off (Jamie turned his head away again), and pulled on her terrycloth robe, which had been hanging on the back of the door. Even more concerning than having Jamie sit on top of the toilet while she let the water drain out and rinsed the tub out, was the fact that her legs felt like lead. She related this to Jamie, who promptly picked her up and carried her out of the bathroom and back to her bedroom.

He laid her down on the bed, and turned to leave when he felt a tug on his hand.

"Stay," she begged.

He almost felt as though he should say the same thing again, that it wasn't proper and all, but they'd gone way past what was proper and what wasn't.

Looking at her curled up and wrapped in her robe, he shrugged to himself and climbed in beside her.

It was late into the night that he realized she'd curled into him and her face buried in his chest.

And she was at peace, if only for a few hours.


	8. If My Heart was a House

**cakie313: I'm so glad you like it! I love writing this story, and Jamie is my favourite companion. Thank you very much for favouriting the story, and the review, it's always nice to see a new reviewer.**

**Emo Naom: I love making people laugh. She's right though, they're well beyond the confines of what's proper and what's not. Thank you for the review.**

**A/N: This chapter is NOT WORK SAFE. It contains scenes of a sexual nature, including nudity and some coarse language. You have been warned. And please feel free to leave a review, the door is always open. **

**ooOoo**

_You're the sky that I fell through, and I remember the view, whenever I'm holding you. The sun hung from a string, looking down on the world as it warms over everything. Chills run down my spine, as our fingers entwine, and your sighs harmonize with mine._

_If My Heart was a House- Owl City_

**ooOoo**

He felt her stirring in the dark, her fingers creeping toward the buckles that held his kilt snug around his waist. He looked over to her clock while staying her hand on his waist. It was 4 in the morning, surely she wasn't thinking straight. There was no way she'd be doing this if she were thinking clearly.

"Bridget…" he could just barely see the shadow of her face. "We can't, lass. I'll nae dishonour you like this."

"Jamie," he could see her shake her head slightly. "I told you, I don't have any honour left to speak of."

"Still…"

"Don't tell me you don't want this," she breathed, abandoning the buckles and moving toward his open neck shirt. She tucked a hand inside the shirt and ran her fingers along his chest. Her hand stayed over his heart as it beat out a steady rhythm. Feeling it beneath her fingers gave her a sense of calm, the fact that she could touch him and feel his skin warm under her fingertips was enough for now.

"I do," he told her. "But not like this."

"How then?"

"When things are nae so upside down," he explained. "Yer still running on…" he was searching for the right word.

"Adrenaline?" she offered.

"Aye, that's it," he agreed, but reaching his arm around her shoulder nonetheless. "And ye nae think clearly when yer too hyped up on adrenaline to remember if ye did anything stupid."

She chose to ignore the last part of that sentence, sighed and snuggled in closer. "You know what kept me sane that night?" she changed the subject, keeping her hand where it was.

"What?"

"The thought that you and the Doctor would find a way out, like you always do," she told him. "The pain was absolutely horrible, but all I could think about was you two. I didn't know if you were safe, and that was more terrifying than the thought that I might die."

"We heard ye screaming all night," he confessed.

"Where were you, then?"

"They had us in a room with a door that didnae open from the inside. Even the Doctor's sonic screwdriver couldn't undo the hinges."

"Then how could you hear me?" she ran her hand over his chest, felt goose bumps erupting as she did.

"Well I…"

He hadn't even gotten three words out before Bridget pressed her lips to his.

She pulled away a few seconds later, smiling at the wide- eyed look on Jamie's face.

"I don't really wanna know," she kissed him again. "I just wanted an opportunity to kiss you."

He blinked, recovering his wits enough to roll over on to his side to face her. Cupping her cheek with one hand, he was the one to kiss her this time. She reciprocated, tugged on his arm and pulled him on top of her.

"Ow!" she muttered.

"What?"

"How do you stand wearing that thing?" she rolled him off of her and crawled over the blanket to his prone frame on the mattress. Grabbing a hold of the buckles, she pulled on the leather to release it. It gave, and she laid across him to get her hands on the other one. "It's itchy."

"Aye, it can be," he agreed, not really paying attention to her words as much as her actions. He couldn't help staring as she straddled his legs and brought her top over her head. "Och, you're beautiful!" he breathed, making out the swell of her breasts in the shadows. Ah to hell with propriety, he needed to touch her, his hands moving to her hips. At least he thought they were her hips, they could barely see each other in the near pitch dark, and perhaps it was better that way.

Tossing her shirt into the corner, she grabbed his hand and sped up the process. Instead of guiding his hands to her hips, she placed them on her sides. That way he had more leverage, and could turn her over if he so wished.

"You're awfully quiet, Jamie," she leaned over, her bare breasts touching his chest, daring him to look.

"Am I?" he had a devilish look on his face. Taking a tighter grip on her sides, he rolled her over so he was now lying on top of her. "Lassie, when I'm done with you you're gonna _wish _it was this quiet again."

He saw her chuckle, and lift her arms up around the back of his neck to pull him closer. "Bring it on, Scotchman," she challenged.

She could see that devilish grin on his face again, his hand reaching down and settling over her. He stayed his hands and the two of them locked eyes. She nodded her reassurance.

He pushed two fingers into her, and waited. She squirmed, he could swear her saw her eyes pinch shut. "Go, go on Jamie, please…" he managed to make out her clipped phrases.

He did, a little harder and faster this time, and she whimpered in response.

He stayed his hand. He was sure she was in pain, but she wasn't crying. Those noises she'd made, well he didn't have a name for them, but she seemed… almost sated.

"Donnae tell me ye came already."

"Alright, I won't."

"Did ye?"

"You told me not to tell you."

"Goddamn it!" he cursed, laying his head on her chest.

"Try… different…" he heard, feeling her fingers run through his hair.

He moved up her body and gently kissed her, his arms on either side of her shoulders, holding his body above her.

"Try what?"

She pushed him over on to the other side of the bed, wet her palm with her tongue, and reached for him.

"Och, _that_," he breathed, arching his hips off the mattress, "Damn it, Bridget. That's…"

"Yes, Scotchman?" she bent her head and blew a steady stream of air. It sounded like she'd whistled.

"That's…"

"What, cat got your tongue?" she kept the pace steady, reveling in the fact that for the first time, she was in control. "Actually, that's a rather unattractive picture in my head. I certainly hope a cat doesn't have your tongue."

"This is no time for asking what cat's got who's tongue!" Jamie fought to keep himself from losing control. He forced himself to focus on the water, the Highlands, his first set of pipes, his gran's apron strings… _anything _to keep himself from coming too quickly.

"Bridget, please…"

"Oh ho, _now _who's begging?" he heard her spit on her palm again, but she'd stopped, waiting for what he was trying to say.

"Please… I need…"

"Need what, Jamie?" she lay on top of him and kissed his chest. "Well now this isn't going to do."

"What?" _You get a lot of mist in the Highlands_, he told himself. _The chanter's the only thing I've got left of me pipes. When was the last time me gran said I was a loafer?_

"One of us is wearing far too many clothes," she brought a hand across her breasts for emphasis. "And it's definitely not me."

He rolled his eyes and sat up, straining with the effort of removing his shirt without letting things get too far.

"That's better," she kissed his chest again, working her way up his throat, the side of his neck, finally his face, catching his lip with her teeth.

"Jesus!" he groaned, "Bridget, please… let me…"

"I'm all yours, Scotchman," she sat back on her heels, looking him over. As much as she tried to keep herself in control, every nerve in her body was on fire, waiting for Jamie to make a move.

"Ah to hell with it," Jamie reached up, grabbed Bridget by the forearms, and rolled her over so that she was underneath him. Pining her to the bed with his arms on either side of her, he kissed her, his entire body on fire, same as hers was. He could feel it, her skin like hot silk.

For all she'd put him through earlier, if she had any ideas in mind, whatever positions she may have had knowledge of, he knew but one way. Lifting her hips, he helped her shift.

"Open yer legs a little wider, Bridget."

She obeyed, trying to find a position that wouldn't cause cramp if he made her hold it for long.

"Good," he laid himself on top of her and guided himself. Pushing gently, allowing Bridget to adjust to his girth, he watched her face. Her eyes rolled back, and a throaty groan escaped her lips.

"Oh my God!" she breathed. "Jamie, I…"

"I know…"

She had to hold on to something, she couldn't just lie back. Reaching up, she ran her hands up and down his back as he pumped his hips, pushing deeper each time, but still something was missing.

"A little to the left, Jamie."

"Aye," he shifted.

"Too far."

"Oh sorry," he corkscrewed his hips and pumped a little harder.

"Good God!" she nearly screeched, bringing her legs up and hooking them around his hips, pulling him as close to her as possible.

"Bridget, I…"

"Go on, Jamie…" she pinched her eyes shut, reveling in the sound of Jamie breathing, heard his anguished cry as he became lax and collapsed on top of her.

"Did ye…"

"No, not that time," she admitted, stroking his hair as he gasped for air, trying to settle himself. "It's alright Jamie, in and out. Deep breaths…" The air in the room now smelled strongly of sweat and sex, Bridget noticed, her nerves still on fire, her own breathing heavy. "But that doesn't mean I didn't enjoy it."

"Aye, well… good… to… know…" Jamie gasped, his eyelids growing heavy.

"One more thing before you drift off on me there."

"What?"

"Who's sleeping on the wet spot?"

"What wet spot?"

"The one I'm currently lying in. It's quite uncomfortable you know."

"I'm no' gonna sleep in it," he insisted.

"Alright, fine," she attempted to push herself up. "Off, off…"

Jamie rolled on to the other side of the bed, though not without considerable effort. Conveniently dry, she noticed.

She leaned over and fished in her bedside table drawer for a coin. Finding it, she held it between her thumb and index finger.

"Call it," she flipped the coin.

"Heads."

She caught it and slapped it on to her other hand. Lifting her top hand, she smiled to herself.

"Sucks to be you."

"Unfair!" Jamie groaned.

"Unfair nothing, Scotchman," she chided. "You lost the coin toss, you're sleeping on the wet."

Grumbling, they traded places on the mattress and settled in for the night. Even with this change in position, she still found herself curled against Jamie's body, his arms holding her to him, wrapped around her torso.

She craned her neck, and kissed him deeply. "You're fantastic, Jamie McCrimmon."

He kissed her back, tongue gently probing her mouth. Suddenly it wasn't enough, being this close and not having her come wasn't enough, not when he'd been able to. When he pulled away and she settled herself back down with her back toward him, his hands moved down her body.

"What are you doing?" she mumbled.

"I came and ye didn't, and that's no fair to you," he explained, moving further down and playing with the soft curls he found there.

She moaned, arching her back, her neck exposed.

"Will ye let me try?" he was still playing with her curls, bending to kiss the skin on her neck.

"Uh huh…" she managed.

Jamie untangled his fingers and moved them down, parting her lips and kneading the already sensitive nub.

Bridget squeaked in approval. She was closer than she'd realized, and if Jamie kept it up much longer she'd…

"Oh!" she choked out, suddenly moving to grab on to Jamie's wrists as his fingers probed further. "Jamie…" she ground out, unable to string more than one or two words together.

"That's it, Bridget…" he whispered to her, still working his fingers. He could smell her arousal, could hear her breath quickening, her movements against him growing shorter, jerking against him.

And she came around his fingers with the longest and loudest keen he'd ever heard.

Now fully sated, the two of them fell asleep wrapped in each other's arms.

**ooOoo**

Bridget awoke and untangled herself from Jamie's arms. As comfortable as she was, she had to get up first. That was the way it had always been, and each time she'd look in the mirror to see if she looked any different. There was never really any change, so eventually (after about the fifth mediocre shag in a broom closet under a school staircase after hours) she'd just given up looking in a mirror after sex. It had never really been anything to write home about, it was, after all, a basic human need, and who really wants to talk about what kind of sex they're having to anyone else?

She grabbed the first shirt she could find and threw it on. She didn't stop to look before quietly slipping out of her room but could tell that the fabric nearly reached her knees. Good Lord, she was short, she'd just never paid attention to _how_ short. Either she'd grabbed the wrong shirt or had shrunk six inches in the last 8 hours. Oh well, she wasn't about to go tearing about the room looking for another one, the shirt she'd put on would have to do.

Bridget went in search of the bathroom to take a shower, but it seemed the TARDIS had switched rooms on them again. Instead of the bathroom, she ended up in the console room, where the Doctor was enjoying the morning with a book. Gulliver's Travels, it looked like.

He looked up and smirked.

"What?"

"Nothing," he went back to his book, but was still smirking.

"Oh no, I know that look," she pointed at him. "What?"

"You do realize my dear, that you're wearing Jamie's shirt?"

"Yep, and what of it?" she rubbed the sleep out of her eye.

"It's a little bit improper to be walking about dressed in nothing but a shirt, my dear. Not that I don't appreciate the view."

She chuckled, realized he was being facetious. "I was looking for the bathroom, if you're so inclined, Doctor. Seems the TARDIS thinks it's funny to switch rooms around."

"Yes. She does that when she gets bored," he marked his page and set the book down on the chair beside him. "Down the hall, last door on your left. I found it this morning."

"Right," she turned around and set off toward the bathroom.

**ooOoo**

Jamie stirred a few minutes later, and punched his arm out to the side. Hitting an empty mattress, he ran a hand down his face and sat up. Every muscle in his body was screaming from that… well… exercise he'd done last night. And where had Bridget gone?

He swung his legs over the side of the bed and winced as his feet touched the floor. While he was grateful for what had happened, he wasn't sure if Bridget felt the same way. He wasn't sure where she'd gone, but he was certain she hadn't left the TARDIS. Her nightclothes were still strewn about the room, and…

She'd taken his shirt.

Locating his kilt, he strapped it on securely and hoped he'd be able to get back to his own room without anyone noticing him. He managed to reach his room without either Bridget or the Doctor noticing him.

Thank God for small miracles.

He showered quickly, and went to the kitchen to find Bridget standing at the counter, dunking two teabags into the pot and pouring hot water. When she'd replaced the lid, he walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder.

"Good morning," she chuckled, her hands covering his.

He quietly kissed her cheek, hoping she'd accept it.

"Want some breakfast?" she asked. "Toast should be ready soon."

"Aye, sure…" they worked around the kitchen together silently, not looking at each other as they ate. "Look Bridget…" he started.

"It's nothing, Jamie," she interrupted.

"What d'you mean, it's nothin'?" he was stunned.

"No, no, not in that way," she insisted. "I was under the impression that we could still be friends after, but if you're looking for a romance, I'm sorry, but I'm not the one you should look to for that."

"That's nae what I was going to ask," he took a bite of toast and raspberry jam.

"Oh?" she sipped her tea. "Then what were you going to ask?"

"Did I hurt ye?"

"No," she reassured him, shaking her head. "No Jamie, you were very gentle, and I appreciate that."

"Okay…" he nodded. "You're still willing to be friends then?"

"Of course," she answered. "One night of good sex shouldn't completely change the nature of our relationship. I like you very much, Jamie, and whether or not we slept together is not going to change that."

He nodded. "Do ye think the Doctor knows?"

"After the amount of noise we made last night, I'd be surprised if he didn't, especially since he saw me dressed in only your shirt," she admitted. "But if he does he's not saying anything," she bit her own toast.

"You mean the amount of noise you made," Jamie arched his eyebrows.

"Oh hush, you were just as bad," she countered. "Anyway, it's not his business. If we can still be civil to each other, which I'm sure we can be, he shouldn't have any reason to make it his business."

"Agreed."

"Let's just let bygones be bygones and see where that takes us," she theorized as they finished their breakfast and cleared up their dishes. "And if you want to talk, just knock on the door. I think it's a bit of a quiet day, the TARDIS isn't bumping about."

"Aye, see you later."

The two of them smiled at each other and went back to their respective rooms. Bridget to strip the bed and clean up the mess of clothes and blankets, and Jamie to stare at the ceiling.


	9. Alive

**James Birdsong: Thank you so very much. Here is more for you.**

**Emo Naom: No worries. I did say I would warn you if there was mature content. I hope you enjoy this chapter though.**

**A/N: A little bit more of Bridget's background (warning for some uncomfortable situations and descriptions), but it is essentially to the story. And please feel free to leave a review, the door is always open **

**ooOoo**

_Every year, another promise is made. A pint of beer, raised toward a better day. Let's find a star, a star to call our own, and make a wish, maybe we can make it home._

_Alive- Edwin_

**ooOoo**

Sometimes the silence was a welcome change, for all concerned. Jamie was having some time alone in his room, Bridget was in the gym bouncing on the trampoline, as far as he could tell, and he was getting a good amount of reading done. Of course, the TARDIS didn't always work as well as she should, but those repairs could wait for another day. They all needed a rest, so they'd materialized in a deserted field and the Doctor had temporarily managed to get the chameleon circuit working again. No one could see them and they were in no rush to go anywhere.

He'd almost go as far to say that they'd not spoken to each other in nearly 24 hours. It was not that he didn't enjoy the company, but sometimes having that time away from each other was more beneficial than they'd thought.

Bridget emerged once or twice, smiled, chatted with him for a bit, and then went back to her room once she'd gotten tired of jumping on the trampoline. He'd not heard a sound from Jamie all day, he wondered if he was asleep or reading.

Well, they were adults. If they needed anything, he was sure they'd let him know. Until then, he decided, he was going to enjoy traveling with Gulliver for as long as he could.

**ooOoo**

Jamie slipped out of his room and quickly knocked on Bridget's door. Allowing him entrance, he closed the door behind him and sat on her bed. The two of them had come a long way in a short time. He was no longer concerned about being in the same room alone with her, nor was he worried if she were to crawl into his bed and sleep beside him again.

"Been up to something today?"

"No," she answered. "Though I am in a bit of pain."

"So I did hurt ye!" Jamie's eyes widened. "Why would you tell me I hadn't?"

"No, no, you didn't really hurt me," she insisted. "The thing is, Jamie, I hadn't had sex for a while, and someone of your…" she cleared her throat, "girth, well it takes a bit of getting used to."

"Oh aye," he seemed to understand.

"Not that I'm not grateful, Jamie, and you're an absolute gentleman, worrying about hurting me after we've shtupped each other. I've never had anyone ask me if they've ever hurt me after sex. Though it has happened."

"Really?"

"Now really Jamie, is a thirteen year old girl's body really equipped to handle something like that?"

"Remember lass, I was never a thirteen year old girl, so I don't know."

"Cheeky," she smiled. "The answer is no, no thirteen year old should have to worry about being raped by anyone, let alone a friend of her father's. I couldn't walk for about three days, and I was ashamed. My father knew about it, but he never said anything after he threatened the guy off with a gun."

"Why would ye be ashamed? Ye didn't do anything."

"But I didn't stop him," she countered. "I should have told him no, but he also said it'd hurt more if I struggled. It already hurt too much so I just let it happen."

Jamie couldn't believe how stoic she was being about this, retelling the story of how her maidenhead had been forcibly taken from her. From all his travels with the Doctor he'd come to understand that his own mother had taught him right. A woman's body is her own, she can decide what she does and in her own timing.

Of course, no one else in 1745 Scotland seemed to think like that, but his mother had never really cared. She could think what she liked, she'd say, and anyone who disagreed could keep on doing so, just as long as they didn't rub how "wrong" and "backward" her thinking was in her face every chance they got.

But to hear Bridget tell him that it was essentially her fault that her father's friend had forced himself on her, he wanted to kill the bastard. But he also wanted to take her in his arms, hold her close, tell her it was not her fault, that she couldn't have fought him off any other way than what she already had.

"Still, can't change what happened," she composed herself and laid down on the bed, resting her head on her hand, looking at Jamie. "What about you? How old were you the first time you had a girl?"

"I was sixteen," he began, and out came the story of the girl by the river. He told Bridget of his being thrashed twice in one day, by both her father and his own Laird, Colin McLaren. McLaren had taken him in when his mother and father had died, and given him food and shelter, how dare he bring shame on them by having a girl without marrying her first? And then he told her that the girl had been sent off to become a nun. He'd never heard from her again, and wasn't sure if she'd actually gone through with that or if something else had happened to her. All this was before he'd even met the Doctor.

Bridget didn't even hesitate, she got up and hugged Jamie. His arms wrapped around her tightly, his face burying into her shoulder. She heard him breathe deeply, trying to hold himself back.

"Being upset about it doesn't make you less of a man, Jamie," she whispered into his neck, her lips placing a feather light kiss there. They held each other as they fell back on her bed. This time, it was not about sex. They needed that contact, if for no other reason than to reassure each other that they were still in the same place they'd been an hour ago. "Did you love her?"

"No," he answered. "Not enough to marry her first. If I had, it wouldnae have turned out how it did."

"You don't have to marry someone to prove you're in love with them," Bridget snuggled in closer to him. "Love comes in all forms. My best friend is in love with her boyfriend, but she won't marry him. She just feels that she doesn't need a piece of paper to announce to the world that she loves him. Another friend of mine, his name is Corey, he's in love with a man named Jason."

"In my day ye'd be hanged for that."

"But in 2010 no one cares anymore. At least no one I know," Bridget told him. "So, I'll ask you again Jamie, were you in love with her?"

"Aye," he admitted.

"And you shouldn't be ashamed of that," she entwined her fingers with his, kissed his knuckles. "But think of it this way. Had things worked out, would you have accepted the Doctor's offer to travel?"

Jamie kissed her hair in response.

"You're a good man and an even better friend, Jamie," she told him. "Thank you."

He chuckled softly. "What for?"

"For last night," she said simply.

He held her even tighter, and it wasn't long before she fell asleep in his arms.

**ooOoo**

The rest of the day passed quite uneventfully. There were no distress signals or things appearing in the TARDIS when they shouldn't or even Jamie and Bridget fighting with each other. Thankful for small mercies, the Doctor sat down in the console room, laid back in his favourite chair, and closed his eyes, hoping to get a bit of rest.

However, a few minutes later, Bridget appeared in the console room, still dressed in her day clothes.

"Doctor?" he heard.

"Hmm?" he stirred, opening his eyes.

"Can I talk to you?"

"Of course, my dear," he answered, sitting back up and stretching. "But let me ask you something first."

She nodded.

"Is this something we talk about over a cup of tea, that we sit on the floor for, or do we stand and risk you falling over?"

"I think it's a 'talk about it over a cup of tea' sort of thing," she answered.

"Alright then, tea it is," he held up his arm for her.

"Why thank you sir," she laced her arm through his and walked with him toward the kitchen. She sat down at the table as he poured water and put the kettle on the stove.

"Now, what's this about?" he sat down across the table from her, folding his hands on the table.

"I feel really guilty."

His face dropped. "Guilty?" he reached over the table but stood up as the kettle started to whistle. "What could you possibly have to feel guilty for?" he took the kettle off the boil and poured tea, bringing it back to the table.

"What happened on Axapta," she confessed, accepting the mug and placing it on the table, warming her hands on it. "There should have been another way, I could have said no, we could have left after giving them…"

"Hold on, hold on," the Doctor reached out his hand, gently clasping hers. "There was _nothing_ you could have done differently," he answered. "You saw what happened. You and Jamie came up with a very clever plan, and unfortunately it backfired. You did what you had to do to keep yourself alive."

"It still doesn't excuse the fact that I killed someone," she gripped his hand tightly. "And honestly, Doctor, I don't trust myself."

His brows knitted.

"If we ever end up in a situation like that again, who's to say I won't be able to stop myself from killing again?"

"Now really, Bridget…"

"They say if you do it once you can do it again," there was genuine concern in her voice.

"I really don't believe you would," he told her. "It's part of their custom, barbaric though it is, and you followed customs. Believe me, Bridget, if Jamie could have done it for you, or even I for that matter, we would have."

"I'd rather take on that burden than have you or Jamie do what I had to do," she steeled herself, her grip on his hand tightening. "I just… I just don't know if this is the right thing anymore."

"Do you want to go home?"

"Oh Lord no," she countered immediately. "No, I don't. But everything has changed now. I can't look at myself in the mirror because I'm afraid I'll look different. I'm scared that I'll look so much uglier for having done such an ugly deed." She bit her lip, trying to keep herself from crying.

"No my dear," he got up, very gently pulling her up to stand. He put his hands on her shoulders, stared at her. "No. You are still lovely, and an ugly deed is an ugly deed, but it does not define who you are," He wiped at the tear rolling down her cheek. "I understand it will take time to trust yourself again, and remember that Jamie and I are your family. We will be your family regardless," he quietly kissed her forehead.

"But…"

"Regardless," he repeated, rubbing her cheek with his knuckles. "Now my dear, I suggest you go back off to bed. It's quite late, and there's not much we can do about this right now. But I promise you, it _will _get easier."

She nodded. "Good night, Doctor, and thank you."

"Sleep well," he acknowledged her farewell and settled himself back into his chair, hoping to get a bit of sleep while he still could. While it was true that things would indeed be different from now on, it was not because of what had happened on Axapta.

It was because of Bridget's own growth as an individual, and Jamie's steady and calming presence.

**ooOoo**

Bridget made her way back to her room, but in the end she couldn't bring herself to fall asleep. Even though she and Jamie were only friends, she suddenly found she couldn't sleep without having him beside her. She not only felt protected when in his arms, he gave her a sense of comfort and stability.

Exhaustion and the need for sleep plaguing her brain, she stumbled from her room toward Jamie's, looking at each door for the familiar piece of tartan cloth he'd stuck on the door to mark it as his. Finding it, she softly pushed the door open to see him sitting on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands.

"Jamie?" she whispered.

"Mmm?" he mumbled, not moving nor removing his hand from his hands.

"Are you alright?"

"Aye," he mumbled again, still not moving.

"You're sure?" she sat down beside him.

"Yes lass," he lifted his head, now resting his elbows on his thighs, his fists under his chin.

"What was all that about?"

"Couldn't sleep," he admitted.

"Seems we both have that problem," we sat on the edge of the bed beside him. "What were you thinking about?"

"Stuff," he answered.

Couldn't be more vague if he tried.

"So long as the stuff is interesting," she copied his posture exactly, her elbows resting on her thighs same as his.

The silence in which they sat was deafening.

But for all the silence, Bridget was sure of one thing.

She was falling in love with James Robert McCrimmon. The son of a piper, like his father before him. Not that she'd let him know that, of course.

A terrifying thought and dangerous undertaking at any rate.


	10. My Heart Has a History

**Emo Naom: It's no wonder she has so much on her mind, with everything that's been going on. Still, it's a journey, and journeys sometimes have bumps in the road. We live and learn. Thanks for the review.**

**A/N: More confusion and emotions running high! And please feel free to leave a review, the door is always open**

**ooOoo**

_My heart has a history, of hurting those who mean the most to me. Before you get too close to me, I think you ought to know… while other hearts are holding on, while other loves are going strong, my heart has a history, of letting go._

_My Heart has a History- Paul Brandt_

**ooOoo**

They say that silence is quite a stimulating conversation starter, but not when there is everything and nothing to say at the same time. What exactly can you say to the person you've just slept with a mere eighteen hours before and have been avoiding each other ever since? Frankly, how do you tell them you're falling in love with them, but at the same time you're scared at what their reaction would be?

This was why Bridget never wanted to get involved with anyone. The logistics and rules regarding relationships, well, romantic ones at least, we're too much for her. All the silly little things to celebrate that in the end meant nothing, being told what she could do and couldn't do, and what was acceptable practice and what wasn't… too time consuming and frankly not even worth it. But as much as she'd been frightened at how Jamie would treat her knowing what had happened to her starting when she was thirteen, the sex had been nothing more than that. Sex between friends, sure, but still just sex. Whatever she'd tried to rationalize about their present relationship, she'd been wrong about things staying exactly as they had been.

Who was she kidding? There were all those statistics and stories from other people saying how sex with a friend changed the relationship they had with said friend. Some had become closer than ever, some could care less about the effect and continued to do it anyway, and some…

"Penny for yer thoughts?" Jamie asked.

"Oh just…" she breathed. "Mindless fluff."

"Well when yer mind's too full o' fluff, does it come out yer ears?"

"Not that I know of," she chuckled. "Next thing I know you'll be wanting to see me naked."

"I already have seen ye naked, lass," she could see him wiggle his eyebrows in the dark. "And it's a right pretty sight."

"You rogue!" she lightly elbowed him in the ribs. "A gentleman does not talk to a lady like that!"

"Ah, but ye said yerself that yer no lady," he teased. "And after that stuff ye did to me last night, it's got to be said that no lady knows how to do _that_ at any rate."

She let out a laugh that sounded oddly like 'HA'. "All the stuff that _I_ did to _you_?" she pushed him back on to the bed and straddled his hips. "Jamie, you made me come harder than I ever have in my entire life. That's not something to be ignored," she ran her hand up and underneath his shirt. "But if this goes on all we'll be doing is be humping like rabbits for the rest of the time we travel with the Doctor."

"Eh?"

"Can't have little McCrimmons running around the TARDIS. Poor Doctor won't know what to do with them if that happens." She slipped her hand back out of his shirt and got off of him. "Jamie, as much as I like you, you and I both know this can't go any further."

His face dropped.

"I told you that if you were looking for a romance, you weren't going to find it with me."

"Aye I know that," he answered. "But if that were t' happen I'd just have used ye for me own pleasure."

"I'd much prefer it that way."

Jamie looked scandalized.

"If that's the case then you used me too."

"Yes I did, and I have no qualms admitting that," she told him. "Believe me Jamie, I've shagged a few people in a broom cupboard under a staircase at my university just for the hell of it. Not because I actually cared about them, basically I just wanted to satisfy that need, so I went ahead and did it. Hell, I didn't even know their names, and they didn't know mine."

"Ye mean…"

"That was well over two years ago, at the very start of my first year," she continued, ignoring the obvious question that still hung in the air. "My father had beaten my mother so many times that the last time he did it she just gave up fighting and died on the kitchen floor. We buried her and I had nowhere else to go. He was still raping me at the time too. Can you blame me?"

"I could but I won't," Jamie's face had hardened. "Look, it's not that I dinna understand that ye were hurtin' and angry, Bridget. I just wish…"

"What?"

"Well, perhaps…"

"Perhaps what?"

"That maybe what happened last night..."

"Shouldn't have happened?" she finished. "Yes well, it probably shouldn't have. You were right about us running on adrenaline at any rate. But I don't regret it, that much I know for sure."

"Neither do I," he admitted. "But that doesn't mean I want to treat ye like a whore, ye deserve better than that."

"I wish I could believe that."

"That I don't want to treat ye like garbage?"

"That I deserve better," she repeated.

"But ye do," he insisted, pulling her close. "Ye deserve much more than that. Now I'm no the most sensitive guy out there. In fact I know I'm a bit o' a clod, but if ye were mine I'd treat ye right."

She smiled up at him, pulled away from him and grasped his hand. Lightly kissing his fingertips, she left him standing in the dark.

Or at least she tried to. She'd barely taken a step before he grabbed her arm, pulled her around, and kissed her.

Her legs turned to jelly.

She grabbed a hold of his forearm to steady herself when he pulled away. "Very well said," she gasped.

He smiled.

"I think I'll be staying here tonight," she stumbled over to the bed and climbed under the top blanket.

"Good," Jamie answered, climbing in beside her. "I don't think I'd sleep without ye here, not least not tonight."

She curled up against him as he wrapped his arms around her waist.

They laid wrapped in the blanket in silence for about 10 minutes before Bridget opened her mouth again.

"You know, I didn't mean that at all."

"What's that?"

"I don't want to be treated as a whore," she told him, pulling him closer. "But I don't know what a proper relationship is. You tell me that if I were yours you'd treat me properly, but I don't know what properly is."

"Well," he readjusted himself. "We'll just have to figure that out, won't we?"

"But…"

"But?"

"Eventually we'll have to leave."

Jamie went silent.

"Oh come on Jamie, I know that I can't travel with the Doctor forever," she reasoned. "And you can't either, as much as you want to. He leads such an extraordinary life, and I think it's fascinating, but eventually we'll have to go back to where we came from."

He was completely silent and still.

"Jamie?"

"I dinna wanna think bout that," he grit out, not moving an inch.

"You can't ignore that it's a very real possibility," she countered. "And when it does happen, not if, _when_, we more than likely won't ever see each other again."

He sighed. "But isn't it worth a try?"

"I really want to believe it is, Jamie," she answered. "But we don't know if we really would have that much time. We barely know each other as is."

"Well then we should make the most of it, don't ye think?"

"I'll think about it," she offered. "But tonight, can we just lie here and forget about everything else?"

"Aye, as ye like," he pulled her close, and held her all night. Neither had the capacity to give in to sleep, but in the end, it won out, like it always would. Damn the human body needing some as frivolous as sleep, she cursed herself. And damn the human heart for having emotions. If they could all live without love and emotions like Davy Jones she'd be better off. She'd turn out grotesque and ugly and very bitter, but still better off.

**ooOoo**

It wasn't even light out when Bridget awoke, still quite snuggly wrapped in Jamie's arms. Perhaps it was better this way. Not having to talk and knowing exactly where they stood as friends and (quite possibly, but definitely not) lovers felt wonderful, in a weird, twisted sort of way.

Bridget rolled out of bed and went back to her own room. Sitting at the desk in the far corner, she rummaged around for a piece of paper and a pen, and set to writing.

_Dear Jamie_, she began.

_As much as it pains me to do this, please know that nothing can happen between us. You're a very good man and an even better friend, and I know you'll make someone very happy someday. Unfortunately, that someone is not going to be me. All those things you promised me of treating me right if I were yours and making the most of the time you have, please, don't waste it on me. Find a good Scottish girl who can give you a bunch of children to raise and build a life with you, and also love you in return like you deserve._

_I can't be a good partner until I learn to be a good me, and I'm nowhere near that goal. I don't know how long it will take, but in reality we both know that it will be much longer than either of us is willing to wait. I am more than willing to be your friend, but I can't give you anything else. I'm not ready, and it's not fair to make you wait._

_Please know that again, I'm really sorry. This was the only way I could summon enough courage to tell you all this without dissolving into a blubbering, sobbing mess._

_Bridget. _

She read it over, made sure it was written in a way he could understand, and stuffed it in an envelope. Writing his name on the front, she tiptoed back to his room, slipped it underneath the door, and turned away. If she stayed, she knew she wouldn't be able to handle seeing the look on his face as he read it. No, she needed to get out, or at least away from his room.

Wiping away a tear, she went back to her own room, pulled a bag from under her bed, and began to throw whatever she could reach into it. She fished her iPod out from a pair of jeans and turned it on. Since she'd not played it for a couple of days she was surprised it still held a charge. Frankly she just wanted to distract herself, and for her, the best distraction came with music.

The lyrics of the song she was listening to had never rung truer. She was terrified of letting Jamie get close. He knew her history and didn't seem bothered by it, but then again a lot of people would say that. No matter how many times someone says 'Oh I don't judge you for what happened', you know that, to some small degree, they would be. But no matter what she did, she'd never be able to escape the feeling that somewhere, deep inside, Jamie would always either be disgusted with her and turn her away at the first sign of trouble, or he'd eventually get bored and find other women to satisfy his needs if she wasn't up to the task.

In a way, that had always been how she rationalized her father's abuse. If he could find that somewhere else, he wouldn't be coming after her and would be able keep his friends, who always smelled of beer, cheap whiskey, and stale cigarettes, away from her. But because her mother wasn't doing it for him, he'd come after her. And as a result she'd been angry with her mother for years, especially as she'd been growing up. Why couldn't she step in and stop her dad? No one else's dads acted this way, only hers, it seemed, and why wouldn't her mother tell him to stop? She could distinctly remember her father raping her over the kitchen table and her mother hadn't stepped in to protect her only daughter. Later she would find out that if she had her father would have slit Bridget's throat in front of her and then repeat the same action on her. In the end, it was an act of compassion. Live and let live.

But she'd never tell Jamie any of this. Then neither she nor the Doctor would be able to stop him going after her father and putting him six feet under.

Speak of the devil, Jamie burst through the door with a hurt look on his face, clutching the letter.

"What's all this about?"

"Well you read it, didn't you?"

"Aye, but…"

"Then there's nothing more to be said," she answered, stuffing more odds and ends into her backpack, turning up the volume on her iPod, trying to drown out Jamie's voice.

"Bridget, please…" she saw him mouth over the beat in her ears.

She held up her head and shook her head. "There's no point, Jamie," she couldn't even hear herself over the same beat. "Now please, let me go talk to the Doctor, and until this is all sorted, I can't be near you. This is exactly why, even though I knew it was a bad idea, I still slept with you. Now I realize it was a mistake, and I'm sorry if I've hurt you, but that's all there is to it."

She forced herself to stare straight ahead as she left her bag on the bed and made her way out of the room toward the console room.

She was sure she heard him spit the word "cunt" at her as she passed.

She flipped him off over her shoulder. "Bite me and die, Scotchman!" she retorted.

In a flash he raced to the door and blocked it with his body.

"Jamie, let me through!" she hissed.

He didn't move.

"Move," her voice was dangerously low.

He stayed exactly where he was, staring at her, a determined expression on his face.

Bridget saw red. Why couldn't he understand that she couldn't stay? That the only way for them to move past this was for her to leave? Why couldn't he understand that if she stayed, she'd only break his heart, and he'd hate her for it? She'd hate herself more, but she was prepared to live with that. Her hand curled into a fist, she raised her arm, thought about throwing her weight into his chest. See how strong you are _now_, Highlander!

But she couldn't do it.

Damn him and his foolish amateur ability to see reason! Damn him, damn him, _damn him!_

She took a deep breath, and a small, strangled cry emitted from the back of her throat.

"Let me go," she managed, shaking her head. "Get out of the way, let me go…"

And still he would not move.

She squeezed her eyes shut and turned away from him. That look on his face… oh good God she couldn't bear it.

"Bridget," he finally moved and gently took her in his arms, running his hand up and down her back. "I'm no gonna pretend that I understand what this is all abou', but you cannae just run away when things donnae work like they're supposed to."

"But…"

"It's gonna be worth it in the end," he insisted. "If it doesn't work, well we cannae say we didn't try."

"I'd only end up hurting you," she whispered into his chest.

"It's nae gonna be perfect," he acknowledged. "If it is then where's the adventure?"

"Up your ass and around the corner," she mumbled, finally relaxing into him. She took a deep breath. "You smell like the rain," her eyes closed. "Like a field after a heavy rain storm."

He bent and kissed her hair, letting her go.

"So, will ye stay?"

Before she could answer, the room gave an almighty jerk and sent them flying in opposite directions.


	11. I Don't Wanna Be in Love

**Emo Naom: That's always bugged me too. There's no way they can stay with him forever, and Bridget is smart enough to realize that. Someone's got brains in their head in regards to that at any rate.**

**A/N: For lovely stuff for you to enjoy, (warning for a little bit of suggestive dialogue and teasing) and please feel free to leave a review, the door is always open.**

**ooOoo**

_She's going out to forget they were together, all that time he was taking her for granted. She wants to see if there's more, than he gave she's looking for. He calls her up, he's tripping on the phone now, he doesn't want her out there and alone now. He knows she's moving it, knows she's using it, now he's losing it, she don't care._

_I Don't Wanna Be in Love- Good Charlotte _

**ooOoo**

Jamie groaned as he peeled himself from the wall, a hand on his shoulder. "Och, what the hell was that?"

Bridget peeled herself up off the floor and rubbed her nose. "I've really got to stop having arguments with the floor. Somehow it always wins…"

The Doctor popped his head in the open door. "Sorry everyone. The TARDIS had a bit of a hiccup. Are you alright?"

"Hiccups?" Bridget had to bite back a snort. "I'd hate to see how she acts around her time of the month."

"Oh she's horrid right around then."

"Yeah well, tell her she can join the club…" she rubbed under her nose and saw blood on her fingers. "Oh great…" she titled her head back. "Could one of you find me a tissue?"

Jamie produced a surprisingly clean handkerchief out of his sleeve. Bridget accepted it and pressed it to her nose. Reaching over the handkerchief, she felt the bridge of her nose. "Not b'oken," she answered Jamie's silent question.

"Now let me see," the Doctor came in and waited until she moved the handkerchief away. "Keep your head back, Bridget…" he delicately worked his way over the bridge of her nose with his fingertips and around her eye socket. "Well my dear, it seems your nose is not broken after all."

"It isn't?" she felt like she had to sneeze.

"No it's not," the Doctor answered. "You've just taken a nasty knock though. The swelling has already started."

"Oh gweat," she muttered again, replacing the cloth. "I'm gonna go ice now," she brought her head back straight and headed toward the kitchen. Though from the angle Jamie was looking at her she looked rather wobbly, like she'd been hit between the eyes and was struggling to keep her balance.

"What happened, Jamie?"

"The TARDIS shook and I ended up hitting th' wall," he explained.

"No, I mean before that," the Doctor clarified.

"What d'ye mean?"

"Jamie, I may be close to 500 years old but I'm not deaf, you know," he smiled at him. "I heard you two shouting at each other."

'I'll not say anything, Doctor."

"Now, Jamie," the Doctor shook his head. "All I want to make sure of is that I'm not going to be wiping someone's blood off the floor or hauling away their bodies at the end of it all."

"If ye mean mine, Doctor, then no. And certainly not Bridget's."

"Fine, that's all I needed to know," the Doctor turned and went toward the kitchen himself.

Jamie let out a sigh of relief. He and Bridget would work through this in their own time, and, though the Doctor had had a family of his own back wherever he came from (he once found the Doctor looking at an old picture of Susan, who he said was his granddaughter, and a right pretty sprite she was too), it wasn't his business to get involved in their affairs. So long as no blood was spilled, they would be fine.

Once they'd gotten themselves cleaned up (Jamie hadn't dislocated his shoulder, though if he'd rotated his arm when he hit the wall he most certainly would have), Jamie and Bridget sat on the floor outside her bedroom staring at each other from across the hall.

"So…" Jamie looked down toward his shoes, studied the laces. "Ye never did answer my question."

"What question?" she rested her wrist on her knee.

"Are ye going to stay? With me and the Doctor?"

"I've got nowhere else to go," she admitted. "I really do love traveling with you, but sometimes I just can't handle being around the two of you all the time. Too much testosterone."

He looked at her sideways.

"At some point I'd like to talk to another girl, you know? When I lived in Ottawa, my other housemates were guys. When my mother died it was only me and my dad. And we both know that wasn't exactly the most stimulating environment…"

"There's not much we can do about that, lassie."

"Hmm? About what?"

"Finding you someone to talk to," he clarified. "It's no' like the Doctor just randomly picks people o' the street an' says 'hey, come travel with me'."

"Well he picked you…"

"To save me life," he concluded. "If I'd stayed in Scotland I'd have been shot dead in a matter o' days, never mind weeks or months."

"But how do you know that?"

"I donnae for sure, but I've got a funny feeling that would've happened."

"Right," she ran her fingers down the side of her nose, winced as she did so. "Okay, my ass is getting cold. Time to get up," she pushed herself up and wiggled her hips to encourage blood flow to the area.

Jamie's leg kicked out as he bit his tongue. Damn his sense of propriety but he couldn't stop himself from staring.

"See something you like?" she threw a 'come get me' glance over her shoulder.

Jamie grit his teeth and closed his eyes.

"Come on Scotchman, you think I don't know you're looking?"

She could swear she heard him growl in the back of his throat.

"Too bad for you," she had one hand on the doorknob and looked back. "I'm going to talk to the Doctor, and you're not invited."

"Now who says?" Jamie jumped to his feet, realized his leg was cramping.

She just grinned and shut the door on him, locking him out of the console room.

He banged his fist on the door and rested his forehead against his closed hand. If Bridget Grey weren't the death of him he'd eat his shirt.

**ooOoo**

The Doctor looked up from fiddling with the TARDIS and grinned at Bridget. "Must you be so cruel?"

"That's not cruel, Doctor. Cruel would be if I agreed then built him up and left him with nothing but a naughty magazine while I came out here and talked to you."

"That's just inhumane."

"Oh come on now Doctor, it won't hurt him to go a few days without sex, and if he's desperate there is absolutely nothing wrong with his right hand."

"Now now, there's no need to be so crude," the Doctor answered.

"I'm not being crude, Doctor," she told him. "Don't tell me you've never had that problem. All those nights alone in the TARDIS, millions of light years away from home, when you didn't have companions with you. You were married, weren't you Doctor?"

"At one point, yes I was," he answered.

"Why did your wife not come with you then?"

He swallowed the lump in his throat.

"She didn't want to," was his answer. It wasn't necessarily true, but all in all it would satisfy most peoples' curiosity. That is, if anyone actually enquired after the subject at any rate.

"But… you took… your granddaughter..."

"Susan," the Doctor filled in the name. "Yes, Susan came with me."

"Then why did she go off with you but your wife didn't?" she asked. "Was it one of those Granddad/ Daughter days that just never stopped?"

The Doctor pressed his lips together. There were some things about him that humans were better off not knowing, and _that_… well that was one of those things.

"Discretion is the better part of valour in this case, as they say," he muttered.

"Fine, you don't have to tell me," she agreed. "I just… wondered."

"Wonder all you want, it doesn't mean you'll hear everything."

"I never said I would," she muttered. "No need to be a snark, Doctor."

"This has nothing to do with being a snark. Now if you could please go away and do something with Jamie for a while, there's a good girl. I'm trying to work."

Bridget held up her hands in defeat. "Fine, whatever. Have fun _trying_ to work."

"Cheeky…" he muttered under his breath.

"Say that again, Doctor? I don't think the people on the other side of the universe heard you."

The Doctor grit his teeth. "Bridget, I'm going to count to five…"

"Four, three, two, one," she challenged, taking a pen out of her pocket and flinging it at him as she walked away.

He didn't even need to look up, catching the object while still studying the console.

**ooOoo**

She ran into Jamie who was just coming out of the bathroom as she made her way back to her room. Muttering curses and obscenities, she saw him stifle a laugh as she went by.

"Shut up…" she scolded.

"I told ye no to mess with him," he tried but was failing to keep himself from laughing. "Ye only end up losing."

"You said nothing of the sort, and I lost nothing," she spat. "Mind you, I don't have a pen anymore cause I threw it at him but that's beside the point."

"Threw it at him?"

"He caught it without even looking up," she waved away Jamie's concern. "Now stop laughing! It's not the first time he's yelled at either you or me."

"He yelled at you?" Jamie crossed his arms over his chest and leaned forward. "Oh ho, now here's where I get t' say it's better you than me!"

"Oh really?" she stopped and turned to face him. "Does he not irritate you?"

"Nae, not the Doctor. _You_, on the other hand…"

"Don't finish that sentence if you want to live," her voice went low as she pushed him back against the wall. "Now, James Robert McCrimmon," she rolled the 'R's, giving it a bit of a Scottish lithe. "I've got you pinned to the wall, and since you've not moved to stop me I'm going to assume you have no problem with that. Any last words?"

Jamie grinned and kissed her.

"Now let's get one thing straight, Scotsman," she put a hand to his chest once she pulled away. "We are not going to end up kissing every time you can't think of something intelligent to say."

"No? Then what _are_ we going to do? Cause, ye know, I'm just a dumb highlander. I donnae know nothing."

"Really?" she leaned in close to his ear. "Then I can teach you a few things," she reached down between them, pulled on his belt. She blew hotly across his earlobe and slowly worked her way down his front. Getting to her knees, she lifted his kilt and set to work.

"Mary, Michael and Bride!" Jamie groaned as her hands worked harder and faster. "Bridget…" he let out a low growl as she released him and reached for him again a few seconds later.

"Told you you'd like it, Highlander…" continued her work, wasn't deterred at all.

And when she stopped Jamie could barely breathe. The walls were smooth, he noted. And as such there was nothing for him to grab onto to steady himself. He knew she could be cruel, but not _that_ cruel.

Bloody Sassenach had left him on the brink.

She got up, leaned close and nipped his lip. "I win," she whispered, cocked her eyebrows once. She turned and went down the hallway, wiggling her hips and wringing her hands. Working out the cramp, he assumed.

"Yer gonna kill me, woman," he gasped as he slid down the wall on to the floor and watched her walk away.

**ooOoo**

She was a bloody tease, and she knew it. Most men thought it was just fine. They liked a bit of intrigue and excitement sometimes, but in her experience most of the time they just wanted a shag and be done with it, and for the last 3 years she'd thought nothing of it. Into the broom closet, slip the condom on. Hard, quick and fast. Lather, rinse, and repeat. Meet new guy, repeat same cycle.

But things were different now. Jamie and the Doctor treated her with respect, something she'd never known outside of her friends at school. But even then she'd just wanted companionship, and they (Alex and Steph), had taken the chance and befriended her. They didn't offer her pity, and she didn't want pity. She never had wanted pity. She'd deal with her home situation on her own, and if that meant moving out on her own and putting herself through school, then so be it.

And it had worked, for about a year. Then things had just gotten monotonous. The same thing every day, every week. Professors who could turn eight slides into two hours by saying the same thing over and over again. And another who'd stare at you if you got up in the middle of the lecture to go to the bathroom. Indeed, there'd be times where she honestly wanted to turn around and shout "I am going to the bathroom! There, now you can go back to teaching knowing that I shall return, you heinous bitch!" And she had done it once, then promptly dropped the class. Then she'd later heard that particular professor had been fired. Good riddance to bad rubbish, she concluded.

But that night, when the Doctor and Jamie had found her by the side of the road and had asked her to travel with them, she hadn't hesitated. It would give her a chance to travel, to see and experience things she'd never done before, and most importantly, they offered her friendship and protection.

Now she understood, however, that she'd never be able to look at Jamie the same way again. It'd been a bad idea to even consider sleeping with him, and an even worse one to go through with it. Sure he'd been gentle and the most compassionate man she'd ever slept with, but her mother had been right all those years ago. Sex between friends was a very dangerous thing. What would they do if she happened to get pregnant? Or worse. It could put a strain on even the strongest of friendships. What had she been thinking?

Oh well, can't change history. She shrugged as she made her way to the kitchen and went looking for bread. If both the Doctor and Jamie went indisposed, she might as well do something productive. She hadn't eaten for a while, and her stomach was protesting.

How she'd managed to keep so calm while Jamie had nearly exploded in her hand was a mystery even to her. She pushed the toast down with more force than was necessary, but really what could she do? This couldn't go on. If she was actually serious, and he'd been absolutely sincere in offering to show her what a proper relationship was, then she'd have to take the chance or leave.

The toast popped, taking her mind off of Jamie McCrimmon.

If only for a few minutes.


	12. Knock Em Out

**A/N: Bar hilarity! And please feel free to leave a review, the door is always open**

**ooOoo**

_Can't knock em out, you can't walk away. Try desperately to think of the politest way to say. Just get out of my face, just leave me alone, and no you can't have my number Why? Cause I've lost my phone. Go away now, let me go. Are you stupid or just a little slow? Go away now, I've made myself clear. Nah it's not gonna happen, not in a million years._

_Knock Em Out- Lily Allen_

**ooOoo**

The TARDIS had landed smoothly and had parked itself on a street corner. Funny beings, humans were, the Doctor noted when Bridget asked if someone would become suspicious of a 1950s London police box on a street corner. A huge box that wasn't there before and what do people do? Walk right by it. No, they had nothing to worry about.

She stepped outside and took in her surroundings. "No way!" she beamed.

"What?"

"We're in downtown Ottawa!"

"Are we?" the Doctor looked at the scanner. "Well so we are. What's significant about downtown Ottawa?"

"There's a bunch of nightclubs and it's really sketchy, but it's fun nonetheless," Bridget looked at the Doctor. "I just want to go out for a few hours."

"You certainly don't need my permission, Bridget," the Doctor told her. "We aren't going to leave you here."

"I'll be going with ye," Jamie interjected.

"Oh no you won't," Bridget stopped him. "No. You wouldn't understand the whole nature of it."

"Will there be drinkin'?"

Bridget's eyes went wide. "Who are you, my mother?" she shook her head. "Of course there'll be drinking. If I'm going to a hen party of course there'll be drinking."

"Hen party?"

"That's my cover story," he reassured him. "And if things start to go to pot, I'll come right back. Fair?"

"Fair enough," Jamie answered. "But please be careful."

"Yes dear," she rolled her eyes and went to change her clothes. She'd smuggled a miniskirt and blouse aboard the TARDIS in her backpack and stuffed them in a drawer under her jeans and other t-shirts. Digging them out, she changed quickly, redid her eye makeup and found a pair of kitten heels, also stored away in the back of her closet. Giving herself a once over, she found her purse and her ID before heading back toward the two men near the door.

When she reappeared she saw Jamie's eyes almost fall out of his head.

"You're no' going out dressed like tha', I hope," he struggled to pick his jaw up off the floor.

"There's nothing wrong with this, Jamie."

"It's no worse than what Polly used to wear, you know," the Doctor agreed. "But take a jacket, won't you dear?"

"Right," she kissed Jamie's cheek and gripped the Doctor's hand in assurance. "I'll be fine, I promise."

"Have fun, my dear," the Doctor answered as she went out the door, smiling.

**ooOoo**

Bridget made it to the closest club that she knew to be clean and respectable (in most cases anyway). After running into Alex and Steph in the line, they decided to have fun for the night, since they hadn't seen each other for ages, at least according to Steph. Apparently the last time they'd heard from her was over four months before. No one knew where she'd gone or anything. They'd looked for her, but with so much going on, it kind of got blown by the wayside.

They gave over proof of ID to the bouncer, who would take Alex and Steph, but Bridget was to be left waiting.

"Flash him," Steph muttered in her ear.

"What?"

"You're not wearing a bra, love. Flash him, and he'll let you in."

Bridget rolled her eyes and lifted her top.

And, as predicted, the bouncer let her through.

Once inside, they found a table and Bridget explained the situation. She was only going to be there for a few hours, and her cover story was that she was at a friend's bachelorette party. The people she was traveling with, the Doctor and Jamie, they were really worried she'd get herself in some kind of trouble, so they'd come up with this cover story and if something were to go wrong, she'd be out of there.

"Sorry I can't tell you anything else, love," she said. "But I'm learning so much from them it's incredible."

"Good," Alex and Steph both slapped down a ten. "Wanna get us two screwdrivers?"

"What, something wrong with your legs?"

"Nope, we just don't want to surrender the table. There's a lot of people in here you know."

"You mean you just want a quick fuck _under_ the table before anyone sees you," Bridget took the money and went up to the bar. "Two screwdrivers and a vodka and cranberry!"

The bartender nodded, acknowledging that he'd heard her over the music.

"Ello, gorgeous," some young guy, he looked about Jamie's age, had clearly had too much to drink, and had decided that Bridget was the one he wanted to talk to. "You've got great legs."

"Thanks," she paid down the money for the drinks and turned away, carrying the drinks as a waitress might.

"What time do they open?"

Bridget glared and checked the clock on the wall. "When you die. Now go away."

"Oh come on now, just a little peck, that's all."

"Are you implying that you've got a small cock? Because that's not something I'd want to parade around if I were you," she set the drinks on the table with Alex and Steph who were clearly sated. Sitting down herself, she took a sip as the drunk tried to worm his way on to another chair at their table. "Are you stupid or just really slow? I'm married, now back off, ass wipe."

"Are you?" he slurred, clumsily picking up her left hand. "Then where's your wedding ring?"

Bridget stood up and grabbed his shirt. Clearly this moron was stupider than he looked.

"It's right here," she threw her vodka and cranberry juice in his face and brought her knee up, catching him in the stomach and sending him sailing to the floor. "Guys, I've got to go. Enjoy yourselves!"

And she ran for it. Luckily the Doctor and Jamie had kept the TARDIS close by, since glancing over her shoulder she could see this guy coming after her.

Bridget reached the TARDIS and banged on the door. "Let me in! Let me in!"

The door opened and Jamie stepped out, immediately putting his arm around Bridget's shoulder and brandishing his dirk at the drunk. "One step closer and yer a dead man. Do ye wanna risk it?"

The drunk stepped in his tracks, his eyes widening at the sight of a knife in his face. "Hey man, I don't want no trouble," he slurred.

"Then I suggest ye clear off. And keep yer hands _off_ my wife. Do ye understand that?"

The guy nodded vigorously and immediately turned on his heel. Taking off down the street, Jamie gave him the evil eye, stuck his dirk back in his boot, and led Bridget into the TARDIS.

"Are you alright, lass?"

"Yeah," she answered, looking around for her sweater. She bundled herself up and took the elastic out of her hair. "Wait a minute…"

"What?"

"You called me your wife." She was nearly speechless, bending her head back and running her fingers through her hair.

"I've called you my wife many times before."

"Yeah but this time it sounded different."

Jamie's eyebrows knitted. "It didnae sound different to me, what do you mean?"

She shook her head, her hair settling. "Nothing. Must be my mind seeing things that aren't there."

He shrugged. "If ye say so."

_Oh God, don't look at me like that. That pout and those eyes. Jamie, get away before I dissolve into a puddle_, she thought.

Jamie stepped toward her.

_What are you doing?_ Her brain struggled to keep up with his movements. _You're coming toward me and you're smiling. What is going on?_

And he wrapped her in a tight hug.

She sighed and relaxed against him.

"I want ye to be mine," he whispered into her hair, taking a deep breath and taking in her scent. Peaches. That's what he smelled. "Ye deserve everything, Bridget. I won't be able to do that, but I'll damn well never stop trying."

He felt her shoulder shake. It didn't sound like she was crying at all… was she laughing?

"Why are ye laughing?"

"You fool," she whispered into his shoulder. "You stupid, uncompromising Highland fool!" she kissed her way across his cheek, the bridge of his nose, finally his lips. "Of course," she finally consented. "Of course. Yes, yes, of course!"

He was shocked into silence. "Yes?"

"Yes!" she kissed him again. "I want to be yours, James Robert McCrimmon. I'm tired of always having to be the strong one. I want someone to take care of me for a change. Please…"

"Oh believe me, lassie," Jamie touched his forehead to hers. "I can take care o' you. In more ways than one."

"Prove it," she nipped at his lip again.

Giving her that devilish smile, he picked her up and carried her back to his room, kicking the door shut behind them.

Later, as she lay curled on her side, her hair falling over her face, she sighed.

"Proof enough?" Jamie asked, his back to her.

"I've had better," she teased, smiling to herself.

"Have ye now?" Jamie rolled her on to her back and rolled himself on top of her. "Then perhaps we need to try this again. And again until I make ye forget ye ever had another man before me."

She tilted her head and looked him straight in the eye. "I accept your challenge, Highlander." She reached up and brushed her hair out of her eyes. "How's about you get started?"

"Your wish is my command," he slinked down her body, fingers parting already sensitive flesh, his tongue working in ways she never even knew were possible.

"Much better," she managed to breath out when he finished. "And tomorrow you can continue to prove me wrong."

"I look forward to it, lassie," he ran his finger down her nose as they drifted off to sleep.

**ooOoo**

The Doctor chose to ignore the noise coming out of Jamie's room. Really, they were adults, and one can only ignore libido for so long. Fine, but there was no need to carry on about it.

Now he could be a cruel man when needed, but he had never so much as uttered a nasty word to any of his companions, at least not in recent memory, but enough was enough. Quietly walking past the door, he went back out to the console room, fiddled with a few buttons and knobs, and made the TARDIS dematerialize. A rocky takeoff for sure, but it had the desired effect.

THUMP!

"What the hell, Doctor?" he heard Bridget yell from down the hall.

"So sorry," he called back, smirking.

He was sure she was rolling her eyes.

Still smirking, he enjoyed the quiet before either of them emerged. He knew what was happening between the two, and he would never chance to stand in their way. He needed Jamie and Bridget, but not in the way they needed each other. Oh, he loved them dearly, but it was platonic more than anything else. No, judging from the way the two of them acted around each other, there was something that he could never have. He'd resigned himself to such a fate when he'd run from Gallifrey.

That was something he'd keep to himself, neither Jamie nor Bridget needed to know anything about it. Not even Susan had known about it, and frankly he wanted to keep it hidden. Really, what else could he do?

When they emerged, he said nothing, instead resigned himself to fiddling with the circuits underneath the console.

"Doctor?" Jamie crouched down on his haunches.

"Yes?" he continued tinkering.

"I've never seen ye work on the TARDIS so much in one go," Jamie answered. "There's naught wrong, is there?"

"No, no, of course not," the Doctor twisted so that he lay on his back. "Why? What's happened?"

"Nothing," Jamie smiled. "But we've not had a takeoff like tha' in a while."

"He did it on purpose," Bridget groused, folding her arms over her chest. "I think we might have been too loud."

"I refuse to dignify that accusation with an answer," the Doctor sat up and shook his head once. "I have no authority to stop you from doing what you like, but please respect that this is my home just as much as it is yours." He stood up and walked down the hall toward the library.

You didn't need to be a genius to understand what that last sentence had meant.


	13. Without You I'm Nothing

**Emo Naom: Go go go Doctor! *arms pumping in happy dance*. Thanks for the review**

**A/N: I am on vacation for two weeks starting this Friday, so I will be updating twice in case I don't have internet. If I do, well then you get an extra treat. Yay extra treats!**

**ooOoo**

_I'm unclean, a libertine, and every time you vent your spleen I seem to lose the power of speech, you're slipping slowly from my reach. You grow me like an evergreen, you've never seen the lonely me at all_

_Without You I'm Nothing- Placebo_

**ooOoo**

They all went to sleep that night in separate rooms. If they were correct in their thinking, with the way he'd asked them to respect that the TARDIS was also his home, it was the right thing to do. One night without bonking each other would do no harm to either Jamie or Bridget, and they both knew it. In fact, she could practically hear Jamie snoring down the hall. Out like a light.

The same could not be said for her.

She heard her mother screams, her dad's roar over the commotion, and the sound of glasses and other objects being thrown. She could see her mother's face, seemingly determined as ever to protect her only child, but the façade was wearing thin. The strange thing was she could also see herself crouching in the corner of her bedroom, her hands clamped over her ears, her eyes squeezed shut, singing a nursery rhyme to block out the sounds. Then she saw her bedroom door fly open, her father's imposing shadow in the doorway.

"Get off of me!" she shouted, shooting straight up in bed.

Blinking and shaking her head, she threw back her blanket and gingerly set her feet on the floor. Getting up, she pulled on her terrycloth robe and walked toward the gym in bare feet. Doing what she knew best, she raised a leg and kicked the foam bag hanging from the ceiling. If she couldn't sleep she might as well do something constructive with her time.

_Thwack! Thwack! Thwack_! Her foot hit the foam without stopping. She grimaced as pain shot through her leg. _Thwack!_

Her breathing heavy, she sat herself down in the dark, rubbing her toes.

She closed her eyes and brought her knees up to her chin.

"They're back!" she whispered to no one in particular. "They're back!"

Suddenly everything started to move. Each shadow hid a monster waiting to jump out and attack her. The gym equipment suddenly had eyes… the cork floor seemed too hot to touch.

"They're back!" her voice evened out. "They're back… oh my God, they're back."

A shadow thrust out at her.

"Jamie! Doctor!" she screamed. "They're back! They're back! Help me!"

The shadows were coming closer. She nearly crab walked to the wall, her knees up to her chin again. "Don't touch me!" she shouted at the shadow that looked like a dog. "No, don't touch me! Leave me alone!"

"Bridget?" a voice was muffled against the sound in her head.

"Don't touch her, Jamie!" the Doctor told him. "She's not awake!"

Suddenly Bridget screamed, scaring herself awake fully this time, her eyes frantic. Her breathing heavy, she searched the room to see Jamie and the Doctor standing over her.

She let out a squeak, holding her arms out. Jamie bent down and put his arms around her.

"He was coming to kill me!" she sobbed.

"Who was?" the Doctor bent down in front of her, made her look at him. "Bridget, who was coming to kill you?"

"I…" she squeaked, looking around. "I don't know…" she pulled Jamie closer to her, desperate for any sort of contact. "I don't know, I don't know, I don't know!" she insisted.

"Okay, alright…" the Doctor nodded to Jamie, who helped her up. "It was night terrors, my dear. That's all."

"A what?"

"Night terrors, Jamie," the Doctor explained as they took her back to her room. "I'll explain later. Right now Bridget needs our help." They tucked the blankets back around her, hoping to stop her from shivering.

"Don't leave," she begged, unwilling to release Jamie's arm.

"But I'm just going t'…"

"It's alright, Jamie," the Doctor nodded at him again. "I'll take care of it."

"But Doctor…"

"Jamie."

Jamie gave up trying to fight it and climbed into bed beside Bridget. He had no idea how to help with these 'night terrors'. He'd never heard of them. Nightmares, yes, but not night terrors. What was he supposed to do?

He felt her curl up close to him, her hands searching for his torso.

"I'm right here, lassie," he stayed her hand over his heart. "See? That's ma heart. I'm right here, I'm no going anywhere."

She nodded, closing her eyes.

He lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles.

"Can ye tell me what you were dreaming about?"

"I don't really know," she kept her eyes closed.

"But you must have some idea."

"Nope," she insisted. "None at all. I don't remember."

Jamie sighed. "One o' these days, Bridget. One o' these days."

"Shush," she cuddled closer to him. "Can you just hold me tonight, Jamie? I want to know you won't leave me."

"Yes _duine álainn__,_" he whispered, kissing her hair.

She sighed. "What does that mean?"

"It's Gaelic for 'beautiful one'," he explained. "That's what you are, Bridget. You're my duine álainn."

She smiled, taking in his scent. "I like that. Duine álainn. It makes me feel special."

And without another word she drifted back off to sleep, and Jamie was left wondering what had scared her so.

**ooOoo**

The Doctor sat himself down with another book. His two companions had indeed grown closer, and there was no way he could ignore it. He'd seen it when Bridget had first agreed to join them. He had been extremely protective of both Victoria and Zoe when they had traveled in the TARDIS, Victoria even more so. He supposed it was because Victoria was from a time closer to his own, she wasn't as at home with the technology they encountered as Zoe was, perhaps she'd been a kindred spirit.

But with Bridget, he didn't quite understand how Jamie had become so attached to her in such a short time. Yes she was hurting and needed a friend, and her background was as tormented as his… she'd not grown up privileged like Victoria and was not a young astrophysicist as Zoe, she was simply trying to make her way in life, but really, weren't they all?

Perhaps it was because they were helping each other heal? You didn't need to be a genius to figure out they'd slept together. That wasn't his business, and he was not planning to make it his business.

It made sense that they did not need him anymore, since it was clear they had each other. Their future was with each other, and not with a silly old buffoon such as he.

He later relayed the same message to Bridget later.

"What?" she scoffed. "Doctor, _of course_ we need you."

"You've been with me long enough," he answered. "You and Jamie have each other now, I'll only get in the way."

"How could you be in the way when you take us to places we'd never see without you? Who else would be able to show us a galaxy 60 million light years away and have us home for tea? Who else could pick up a Highlander and a 21st century outcast and help us form lasting friendships? You saved our lives, Doctor, Jamie and me both, and you continue to do so. We need you, we always will."

He patted her hand in thanks.

Sometimes even the most self-assured Time Lord needed someone to tell him he was needed, she noticed. Going back toward her room, looking for a hairbrush, she ran into Jamie holding a piece of toast in his hand.

"Ye didn't tell him, didja?"

"He doesn't need to be told, Jamie," Bridget answered. "He knows."

Jamie's mouth dropped in shock.

"Don't look so surprised. Anyway he doesn't care about that."

"So why's he been so melancholy?"

"Even if he's not a human, everyone needs to be reassured once in a while. He doesn't think we need him anymore."

"But that's ridiculous!"

"How many times has he reassured us? Gotten us out of trouble at his own peril? How many times, Jamie, and without asking anything in return?"

"Not enough that he canna stop doing it."

"Don't you dare start grousing over something like this!" Bridget crossed her arms over her chest. "I asked a simple question, there's no need to be a snark about it."

"That was nae a snark answer."

"Like hell it wasn't," she raised herself up to her height, which only put her square to Jamie's chest. "Don't tempt me, Jamie. I could lay you out flat if you do that. He knows we still need him, but only after I said we did."

"You should nae be alone with another man."

She nearly collapsed in a fit of laughter. "That's rich! Alone with another man! I'm always alone with you. Why is the Doctor any different?"

"You're mine, Bridget, that's why he's different."

Her eyes suddenly darkened.

"_You do not own me_, James Robert McCrimmon!" she shouted at him. "I agreed to be yours, to see if we could develop the relationship we have now any further, but if it's going to get into insane jealousy and whatnot, then forget it!"

Before he could stop himself, his hand connected with her cheek.

She recovered quickly, her eyes steeled instantly. "As you like, Highlander," she pushed by him and calmly shut and locked her bedroom door. She emerged twenty minutes later, her backpack packed.

"Open the doors, Doctor," her voice like venom, her focus on him, ignoring Jamie completely.

"Where are you going, Bridget?"

"I'm leaving," she answered.

"Oh? Can I ask why?"

"It's time," her gaze said more than words could at that point.

"Well perhaps…"

"There's nothing you can do, Doctor. Open the doors," she insisted. "Please."

His mouth stretched into a straight line.

"As you wish, my dear," he obliged her, but stopped her before she disappeared from sight. "But you understand that this may be the last time you'll see us?"

"Yes I understand," she nodded. "And if I do, I should be so lucky."

He nodded, kissed her forehead. "Goodbye my dear girl."

"Goodbye Doctor," she turned and began to walk out.

"Is this how it's going t' be then?" she heard Jamie call to her.

She turned back, her resolve beginning to waver. "Yes it is, Jamie," she answered. "You'll find someone to make you happy someday, but it's not me."

And she turned and left the two of them in the TARDIS. Sticking her earphones in her ears, she didn't dare look back.

She heard the familiar sound of the TARDIS dematerializing over the music in her ears, and continued walking.

_You've never seen the lonely me at all._

Truer words had never been spoken.

**ooOoo**

"Doctor, is there no way ye can…"

The Doctor held up a hand. "It's her life, Jamie, and we have to let her live it as she pleases," he answered. "Though I don't think I'll understand why she chose to leave, as far as I could see you were getting along just fine."

Jamie was silent.

The Doctor took a look at the controls as they landed in a quiet field once again.

"We had an argument," he admitted.

"One argument should not be enough to tear you two apart like that, and so quickly!" he answered. "What did you argue over?"

Jamie shook his head. He felt horrible for having done what he did. His mother would have thrashed him senseless for raising his hand to a lady, no matter if she provoked him. He'd wanted to wait until the two of them had calmed down, so he could apologize to her, but she'd packed and left before he'd had a chance to do so. Having to admit to the Doctor, of all men, that he'd hit Bridget in the face over a small tiff… he felt sick to his stomach.

In truth he wanted to get completely drunk and not remember his name by the end of it.

"In your own time," the Doctor told him. "Good gracious, Jamie, you look white as a sheet."

"'M fine," he mumbled, turning his back.

The Doctor saw nothing productive in trying to make Jamie admit anything. Sighing, he went to his work.

**ooOoo**

Bridget sat back in her bedroom, her nose buried in a textbook. Even with her headphones in her ears, she could hear her housemates stomping up and down the stairs, drunkenly singing songs about how horrible it was that they were not getting laid at that very moment.

Rolling her eyes, she opened her door and glared at them, proclaiming that if they didn't shut up and quit whining about how deprived they were, she'd soon make it so that they had something more permanent involving their cocks to complain about.

"Bitch!" they shouted at her.

"Perverts!"

"Why so hostile, Leila?" they taunted, using her middle name. "When was the last time you got laid?"

"Last night, and it was better than any of you would be, considering I need a magnifying glass to see yours. You couldn't keep it stiff for more than five minutes I'm sure." She spat at the one who seemed most vocal.

"You want to bet there, little lady?"

"Not particularly, something tells me you'd bust a nut before we even started. Now shut the fuck up and let me study!"

The roommate across the hall marched toward her door. "You're gonna want it one day, Leila."

"Perhaps when I die, or do you harbour certain tendencies toward necrophilia that I'm somehow not aware of?"

He sneered in disgust, knowing she'd bested him. Turning back toward his room, she smirked and locked her door.

Trying to go back to her textbook proved futile, no matter how hard she tried. She couldn't concentrate on… what was it she was reading again? Oh yeah, she was reading about the history of the telegraph. Not so fascinating when your mind's eye is filled with images of a flying police box and a man with a bowtie along with a man in a kilt zooming around time and space.

She couldn't go back to a normal life, not after all that she had seen and accomplished. But she'd left the TARDIS, they'd dropped her off precisely a day and a half after she'd first fled her father's house, and this was what she needed to do now. She needed to pick herself up, go back to her classes, and move on with her life. She was sure she'd never have Jamie (in fact there was no point in even assuming that they would ever be able to come back for her), so she might as well accept it and move on. Find a new guy, see where that would go.

Easier said than done, she mused.


	14. It Must Have Been Love

**A/N: Part two of my double update! And please feel free to leave a review, the door is always open**

**ooOoo**

_Lay a whisper, on my pillow. Leave the winter, on the ground. A wake of lonely, a stare of silence, in the bedroom, all around. Touch me now. I close my eyes, dream away. It must have been love but it's over now. It must have been good, but I lost it somehow. It must have been love, but it's over now. From the moment we touched to the time I run out. _

_It Must Have Been Love- Roxette_

**ooOoo**

Bridget decided the best thing for her to do would be to go back to school, in an attempt to piece together something resembling a normal life. Soon things fell back into a normal pattern. Get up, go to class, spend time in the library, go home, read, go to bed. Same thing, every day, except when Alex and Steph decided they wanted to take her out again, to apologize for what had happened at the bar with Drunken Frat Boy the last time. She always refused, but always told them she appreciated the gesture at any rate.

Sitting in lectures and pretending she actually cared was another thing entirely. She could certainly sit there and take notes, sure, but in reality she wasn't retaining any information.

Sighing, she pinched the bridge of her nose and forced herself to focus straight ahead at the professor. The way he spoke reminded her of the Doctor. He had the same goofy and light-hearted way of looking at a problem, but also very serious at the same time. While she and Jamie didn't always understand what he was up to, they were always willing to share in a new adventure.

She missed that.

She missed the Doctor, and she missed Jamie.

Rolling her eyes as the professor ended the lecture, she popped her earphones back in and started on the lonely walk home. Well, it wasn't exactly lonely or silent. That's what the music was for.

She'd replaced the phone that she'd thrown into the creek, giving her number to only a select few, and as she walked felt it vibrating in her pocket. Pulling it out, she checked it quickly.

_Girl's night tonight. You in? _

_Not tonight. Not up to it._

No sooner had she sent it did her phone ring.

"Hello?"

"You are not going to sit on your ass pining over Jamie _again_, missy!" Steph's voice admonished.

"But…"

"No buts! You're coming over to mine and we're gonna sit on my bedroom floor in our pajamas watching sappy rom-coms and eating a ton of junk!"

"Steph…"

"If you're not at my house by 5:00 with an overnight bag I'm going to bust down your door and kidnap you! Do you get that?"

"Fine," she gave in. "Give me half an hour. I promise I'll be there. Pizza's on me."

"Deal. Margaritas okay?"

"Love it. See you soon."

"Okay bye."

She snapped her phone shut and made her way home as quick as she could. Barely stopping to breathe, she made it to Steph's house in less than 20 minutes.

Steph opened her door and smiled.

"So it worked!" she took Bridget's bag with one hand and grabbed her wrist with the other. "Now you lovely little piece of wonderful, sit yourself down. I'll get you some wonderfully alcoholic beverage and we can get this party started!"

"There's no one else coming?"

"Oh God no," she laughed. "Honey, would you want Alex in here while I get all the dirt on you and Jamie?"

"Who said I'd be talking about Jamie at all?"

"I did," Steph handed her a glass. "Once I ply you with alcohol at any rate."

"Next thing I know you'll want me naked."

"My dear you know very well I have no interest in seeing you naked," Steph smirked. "Or should I say invested interest."

Bridget took a sip of her drink and giggled. "You're already drunk."

"Give the lady a prize!" Steph held up her glass. "Well now, to singledom!"

"To singledom!" They clinked glasses, smiling.

"So then, tell me about Jamie…"

Bridget caught herself giggling again. "Why? What's in it for me?"

"More booze," Steph answered.

"I'm good," she insisted. "I don't want to end up with alcohol poisoning,"

"Two drinks will not give you alcohol poisoning, love," she pointed to Bridget's half empty glass. "Now drink it down."

As she did, she nearly choked. She'd taken it down far too fast and it was too strong. Coughing and sputtering, Steph took the opportunity to ask about Jamie.

"What?" she coughed, trying to keep her stomach contents from making an unwanted appearance. "Why would you want to know about Jamie?"

"Because you've been moping about him for more than a month, and I've never seen you do that," Steph took the glass from her and set it on the table.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"No offense, sweetie, but you're more of a wham bam thank you ma'am type of girl. Half the time you don't even know the guy's name."

"So I like anonymous sex."

Steph raised an eyebrow.

"In broom closets."

Steph's expression didn't change.

"And under the stairs. Look, it doesn't matter. Why should that have anything to do with Jamie?"

"Because I think he was good for you."

"Don't you start with this, don't you dare start," Bridget held up a finger. "The Doctor said the exact same thing."

"Now who's this Doctor?"

"The man I traveled with, he's how I met Jamie. I mean… shit!"

"Ha! Got you!" Steph pointed at her and laughed. "Have you shtupped the Doctor too?"

"You're kidding, right?" Bridget put a hand over her mouth to stop her laughter. "Fucking the Doctor? Handsome as he is, no thank you."

"So you only shtupped Jamie?"

"Many many times."

"And how was it?"

Bridget gave her a shit-eating grin. "Best I've ever had, and that's saying something."

"And is it true what they say about Scotsman and kilts?"

"I'll say nothing about that," Bridget smiled again.

"Aw come on, love, you've already told me he's great in bed, why can't I know that?"

"My lips are sealed."

Steph pouted, sticking out her bottom lip. "Meanie!"

"Yep," she answered, once again popping the 'p'. "What happened between Jamie and I is private."

"I wouldn't count it private when you've been so depressed since you've come home. He must've done _something_ right."

"He did lots of things right," she nodded.

"Then why did you leave? If you were so happy with him and, as you said the sex was amazing, why leave?"

"We had an argument," she finally admitted.

Steph popped a piece of popcorn in her mouth, chewed noisily. "Must've been some argument."

"That's the thing though, it really wasn't," Bridget dug into the popcorn bowl. "It was such a stupid little thing, and we both reacted badly. Yes, I'll admit, he slapped me, but he'd never do it under normal circumstances. Frankly I think he must be feeling as horrible as I am right now."

"He didn't try to apologize?"

"I didn't give him the chance," Bridget told her. "I packed my bag and walked out."

Steph shrugged her shoulders. "Too late to do anything about it I guess." She chewed another piece of popcorn. "I'm assuming that they're not coming back to get you anytime soon?"

"No," she knew that was true, and there was nothing she could do about it. She'd just have to accept it and move on. "Oh well," Bridget grabbed the remote. "Hey, where's the movie you promised me?"

"Already in there," Steph pulled a blanket off the couch. "Just push play."

**ooOoo**

Jamie sat in the TARDIS staring at the wall. Without Bridget the machine just seemed too big, too empty, and the Doctor had tried to cheer him up, he really had. Everything they did, everywhere they went, it was as though he almost wished he could summon Bridget back by the force of his own will.

Each time she wasn't there.

"Perhaps I should get you home, Jamie," the Doctor sighed.

"What?" the young Highlander bolted out of the chair he was sitting in. "What gave you that idea?"

"All you do is sit in that chair and mope, Jamie. Nothing I do seems to help. Perhaps this isn't the best arrangement for you any longer."

"It's not that, Doctor."

"I know perfectly well why you're so despondent," he answered, throwing Jamie his jacket. "And I understand you miss Bridget. I miss her too, but we have to move on. It's what I've always done."

"Because you can't stand to look back, can ye?" Jamie spat.

The Doctor glared at him. "As I said, I don't think I can help you any longer."

"Oh, and who can?"

"Cora."

Jamie frowned. "I'd sooner stab a fork in my eye."

"It'll be good for you," the Doctor whispered, more to himself than to Jamie.

"So ye _do_ want me outta here, is that what you're sayin'?"

"Of course I don't, Jamie, but I have to put your needs before my own wants. You can't stay with me forever, as much as you might like to."

"Are ye going to leave me there?"

"Of course not," the Doctor answered just a little too quickly. "Regardless of whether or not I enjoy having to do this to you, it needs to be done. Now then, Jamie, in this matter you have two choices…"

"Speaking to me as though I'm a bairn is nae gonna get me to agree to it any faster."

"As you wish," he continued. "You can either come quietly or I can drag you to your sister's doorstep kicking and screaming. Either way, I am taking you to see her."

Jamie hung his head as though his ears had just been boxed. Resigning himself to his fate, he went off to the washroom, only realizing just then he had piss something fierce.

They arrived on Cora's doorstep to see her young son Benjamin sitting on a hard bench, wrapped in a jacket but still looking quite sad.

"You leave my son alone, he's being punished!" Cora shouted out the window, not at all fazed that her brother had just reappeared after being away from well over a year.

"Oh aye? And what did Alec blister his arse for?" Jamie turned and opened the front door, inviting both himself and the Doctor in.

"His da nae blistered his arse for 'im, I did, take your shoes off," she added as she made her way toward the fire, where the kettle was warming.

"Didn't know you had it in yer, thought that motherly instinct woulda kicked in."

"He let the horses loose and nearly got wee Margaret trampled. Had his da got at him I think he'd near have killed 'im," Cora poured tea for the three of them, still going about her daily routine as the Doctor and Jamie sat down at her table.

"And where's Margaret now?"

"Wouldn't you know it, she's out ridin' with him right now," Cora sat down and sighed. "Oh it feels good to sit down for a minute."

"Really?" Jamie leaned forward, clearly fascinated with the fact that his niece, small though he remembered her, was so fearless.

"Aye, even insisted on helping 'im bring all the horses back in and feeding 'em before they go out. Stubborn little imp that one. Nearly gets trampled an' still wants to ride…"

"Ma?" came a voice from outside.

"What?" she shouted back, keeping her eyes locked on her brother and the strange man who'd come with him.

"Can I get up now?"

"You're sitting out there till supper, Benjamin James!" she still didn't turn her head. "And then afterward you're gonna be polishin' all the saddles and bridles for a fortnight!"

"She told me to do it!"

"I don't care who told who to do what!" Cora had now turned her head. "Point is you nearly got yer sister killed. Yer lucky I held off yer da, he'd a killed ye, blood or no!"

Ben went quiet, clearly and begrudgingly resigning himself to his fate.

"Now," Cora turned back to face Jamie and the Doctor, placing her hands on the tea mug. "Why have ye shown up on me doorstep when we see sight nor sound a you for a year?"

"Has it been a year? My goodness," the Doctor mumbled. "I was rather hoping you could help us, Cora."

"How?" her eyes went wide as she suddenly realized what was different. "Where's that wonderful young lassie ye had with you last time?"

"She left," Jamie bit out.

"She left? Why did she leave?"

"Ma! I need to piss!" Benjamin called.

"Watch your mouth or I'll wash it out with soap! If you need to go, drag yourself down to the privy!"

"But Da always takes me! I get too scared!"

Cora rolled her eyes. The boy was eight years old, how could an eight year old be scared of walking to the privy by himself? Putting her hands on the table and pushing herself away, she moved to get up.

"I can see my presence is not needed at this time," the Doctor stood up quickly. "I can take the lad if you need me to."

"Would you? Uh…"

"Doctor," he reminded her.

"Yes, Doctor," she sat herself back down. "I don't think he'll remember you from before but if you tell him I said it's alright, he won't kick up a fuss."

"Right," the Doctor nodded once and went to help Cora's son with a quick trip to the lavatory.

"Now, James Robert McCrimmon," Cora leaned over the table and smiled at her younger brother. "Why did she leave?"

"You'll no say anything, will you?"

"Have I ever?"

Come to think of it, she never had let on to anyone the things he'd told her in confidence, and he figured she wasn't going to start now.

And out came the entire story. The friendship that developed into casual sex ('No, I've nae got any bastard children by her, I ken that much.'), the argument they'd had over the Doctor's position in their lives, and his reaction. The only thing he left out was Bridget's past, that wasn't his story to tell.

When he finished, Cora raised an eyebrow.

"Well I cannae say I blame her," she answered. "I ken ye have a temper, Jamie, but nothing that anyone's ever done to ye has ever caused ye to raise yer hand, especially to a woman."

"I donnae ken why I did it," he confessed. "And I wanted to tell her I was sorry, but she nae gave me a chance."

"Well put yerself in her shoes," Cora told him, leaning back in her chair. "If someone had slapped you like that, would ye have given them a chance to apologize?"

"I donnae ken."

"No ye wouldn't have," Cora answered. "I know ye, little brother. Ye'd have knocked their teeth in faster than they could say hello, and it nae woulda turned out nicely."

"It's just…"

"It's what?"

"It's like… since she's no here, I don't wanna do anything. It's no fun anymore, an' every time I think o' her my stomach sinks."

"Ah…" Cora nodded her head once. "You know what I ken, Jamie?"

"What?"

"Ye fell in love with her."


	15. King of Wishful Thinking

**Emo Naom: I agree, what have they done? And what are they doing now? Hopefully their time apart will knock some sense into them, since they're so stubborn they can't see what's right in front of them. Thanks for the review**

**A/N: Scotland! Please feel free to leave a review, the door is always open**

**ooOoo**

_I don't need to fall at your feet just cause you've cut me to the bone. And I won't miss the way that you kiss me, we were never carved in stone. If I don't listen to the talk of the town, then maybe I can fool myself. I'll get over you, I know I will, I'll pretend my ship's not sinking. And I'll tell myself, I'm over you, cause I'm the king of wishful thinking._

_King of Wishful Thinking- Go West_

**ooOoo**

"What?" Jamie stared at his sister dumbly.

"Ye really are thick," she leaned forward and cup her brother's face. "You fell in love with her, ye clod, and it scared both of you."

He stumbled over his next sentence, as though he'd swallowed wool.

"She'd a said something, though!" he insisted.

"No she wouldn't have," Cora answered. "Lassies are nae so straightforward. Aye ye made a mistake, and I'll no condone what ye did, but if it's one thing I ken, it's that ye love her, and is naught use trying to deny it."

"But…"

Cora raised an eyebrow.

"I dinna ken what t' do."

Cora dropped her head into her hands. "Ye go after her, ye daft clod!" She reached across the table and smacked him in the face. "Ye have a fucking _time machine_, for Christ's sake! Ask the Doctor t' take ye back to her. Tell her ye love her and take her to bed! Not that hard!"

"Ye didna have t' smack me," Jamie rubbed his cheek.

"If anything it cleared yer head," Cora was not one to make apologies. She looked out the window to see the Doctor and Ben making their way back to the house, deep in conversation.

"I didna mean to let the horses out, Doctor," Ben insisted. "Maggie said she wanted to see what they'd do if we opened the gate and they went running too fast!"

"Did you tell your mother that?"

"I tried, but she didna listen! She put me over her knee and larupped me good. Now my arse hurts," Ben dropped his voice, as though embarrassed to admit such a thing. Big boys dinna admit that something hurt, his da said, only when it got so bad they had t' ask a healer did they say anything.

"Yes well, I'm sure she'd listen to you now," the Doctor put a hand on the young boy's shoulder. He got Ben to stop walking and approached the window. "Cora, Ben would like to say something to you. Would he be allowed in the house for a moment?"

"Aye he can, thank ye kindly Doctor," Cora answered, stirring the vegetable stew in the pot over the fire.

Ben came in hanging his head, apologizing to Cora for what he'd done.

"Thank ye, lad. Ye can set up the table."

"You mean I dinna have to sit outside no more?"

"No you don't."

"And I dinna have to polish the saddles and bridles?"

"No, that part ye still have to do," Cora answered. "Jamie, Doctor, will ye be staying tonight?"

Jamie looked to the Doctor.

"I think we shall, if it's not too much trouble, Cora," the Doctor confirmed.

"Oh no not any trouble at all," Cora answered, looking out the window. "Ben, did yer da say where he an' Maggie were heading?"

"No," he answered.

There was a terrible howling noise from outside, and the sound of little feet running toward the house.

"What's that then?" Cora stuck her head out the kitchen window to see her six- year- old daughter running with her skirts torn and her face dirty.

"Oh dear God," she made to cross herself as Margaret flung herself through the door into Jamie's arms.

"Mummy! Mummy!" she screamed, not stopping to acknowledge the strong arms that held her. "Daddy's hurt! He said to come and find you!"

Cora and Jamie exchanged a terrified look. Jamie set Margaret down and gripped her little arms, forcing her to stare at him.

"Margaret, ye may not remember me, but I'm yer Uncle Jamie. Now, tell me where yer da is and I'll bring him home."

"He's over there…" she wailed, pointing.

"I'll bring him home…" Jamie insisted. "Doctor, stay here, won't ye?"

"Of course," he put his hands on Cora's shoulders in a gesture of reassurance. "Ben, Margaret, you two come inside."

"But I wanna help Uncle Jamie!" Ben made to tear after him.

"You'll stay here," Cora's voice was enough to glue Ben's feet to the floor. She realized there was nothing they could do except wait. He put her hand over the Doctor's on her shoulder, fear in her eyes.

**ooOoo**

Jamie ran as fast as he could and nearly tripped over Alec MacDonald's prone body. Kneeling and looking his brother-in-law in the eye, he placed his hand on the clammy chest.

"Alec?" he whispered.

Alec MacDonald very slowly turned his head, sighing as he locked eyes with his brother-in-law.

"Margaret?"

"She's home with Cora," Jamie answered, confirming that the little girl was safe.

"Jamie, I…"

"I know, bràthair-cèile," Jamie told him. "Ye did a great job. Yer a good husband and father, and for that ye canna be ashamed."

"I'm no gonna live," Alec choked out. "Promise… me…"

"Cora and the bairns will nae want for anything," Jamie told him. "Yer not to fash yerself about that."

Alec clasped his hand over Jamie's. He was starting to shake now, choking. Even in the dying light, Jamie could see a blue tinge to the man's skin. He'd had a heart attack, Jamie could see, and there was nothing he could do. He couldn't let Cora see her husband in this way, nor Ben and Margaret. Best he see him out with whatever dignity the man had left.

"I need… confess…" he gurgled.

"No," Jamie raised his free hand and put a finger to his lips. "Whatever you may have done, bràthair, you are forgiven." While not being a priest, Jamie recounted, any man willing to sit with you at the hour of your death would do to hear your confession.

Alec gave one last choke, attempting to nod, and his grip on Jamie's hand relaxed.

Jamie hung his head, whispered a prayer in Gaelic quickly, and ran his hand down Alec's face, closing the now lifeless eyes.

"Go in peace, my brother," he whispered. He couldn't very well drag Alec's body back to the house with the children still awake, and if he left the body near the woods, the wolves and other creatures would take it in no time.

Sighing, Jamie got up and walked back to the house. Cora and the Doctor stood waiting at the open door, Ben and Margaret nowhere in sight.

He shook his head.

He saw Cora's face drop, her eyes welling with tears, and she turned toward the Doctor, her face buried in his chest.

He reached the house and stepped inside, gently touching his sister's shoulder before going back to the woods and retrieving his brother-in-law's body. He would wash the body later, for now he'd lay the body in the herb shed and go inside to his sister.

The Doctor released Cora, who grabbed onto Jamie's shirt and collapsed to the floor, a strangled cry emitting from the back of her throat.

At the sight of the young widow crying in her brother's arms, the Doctor took the opportunity to take his leave, heading back to the TARDIS.

Jamie appeared a few minutes later, meeting in the console room.

Their eyes met in mutual understanding.

"I need ta stay, Doctor," Jamie told him.

"Yes I quite understand," he answered. "Your sister and her children have no other options if you don't."

"Aye…" Jamie held out his hand. "Goodbye, Doctor, I'll not forget you."

"I won't forget you either, Jamie," the Doctor shook his offered hand.

"And if ye see Bridget again…"

"I'll tell her," the Doctor nodded. He turned around to see Jamie walking back toward the house, running his hand through his hair, a look of defeat about him.

**ooOoo**

Bridget sat on her knees with a paring knife in her hand. She dug into the dirt, removing the weeds right at the roots.

With her earphones in her ears, she sang along as she furiously pulled old roots and plants out of the ground with undue force. Frankly it was the only thing she could do to keep herself from pulling her hair out. Her roommates were getting on her nerves, she had her landlord breathing down her neck for her last rent check (which she didn't understand, she'd paid it down the week before), and she still missed both Jamie and the Doctor terribly.

She heard rustling over her music, turned and threw her knife.

"Well now, did we need to do that?"

She'd know that voice anywhere.

"Doctor," she beamed, getting up and wiping the dirt off her knees.

"Hello my dear," he opened his arms and smiled back at her.

She squeezed him tightly, relishing the fact that she could touch and see him again.

"Where's Jamie? I never saw one without the other when I traveled with you."

"Well, ah…" he pulled out a handkerchief and moped his brow. "You see, Bridget, I… uh…" she stuffed the cloth back in the breast pocket of his jacket and laced his fingers together. "I had to leave him behind."

"Behind? Behind where?"

"In Scotland."

"Scotland?" she shook her head quickly. "What's happened? He'd never leave you of his own free will."

"His brother-in-law fell off a horse and died of a heart attack," he explained. "And in 18th century Scotland, his sister and her children would be destitute if he didn't step in."

"So he stayed to keep them from being thrown out," she finished her thought out loud. "Well it's honourable at least."

"That it is," the Doctor clapped his hands together once. "Although I did come to ask you one thing."

"Yes," she answered immediately.

"You don't even know what I'm about to ask you."

"Come with you. Is that it?"

"Well, yes…"

"I'm sold, let's go!" she dropped the paring knife in the dirt and grabbed the Doctor's hand, pulling him toward the TARDIS.

"Hold on, Bridget, do you have everything in order?"

"Who cares? I can't stay here any longer. If I do I'm sure I'm going to die."

The Doctor jerked back. "What? What are you talking about?"

Her cell phone went off.

Rolling her eyes, she pulled it out of her pocket and listened.

"Stop calling me!" she shouted into it. "No, let's get one thing straight, asshole! I DO NOT LIKE YOU! I've been nice, but obviously that doesn't work, so now I am being nasty! Lose my name, lose my number, I don't ever want to hear from you again! PISS OFF!"

Shutting the phone, she shrugged once, sighed, and put the phone back in her pocket.

"Bridget," the Doctor put a hand on her shoulder. "Is everything alright?"

"It will be if I can come with you." Her eyes were welling up.

"What's wrong?"

"Can we go? Please?" she begged.

Seeing the distress in her eyes, he nodded and ushered her into the TARDIS.

**ooOoo**

Jamie rolled over to feel a small lump in the bed beside him. Rubbing his eyes and looking down, he saw Margaret curled against him, her thumb in her mouth.

"What are ye doing in here, lassie?"

"I miss my Daddy," she told him. "I can't sleep without my Daddy here."

"I know ye miss him, lass," he answered.

"Is he coming back?" she asked again, looking up at him.

"Not for a while, Margaret," he hugged her close.

"Is he sleeping?"

"In a way." What else could he do? What else could he say? "Which is what you should be doing."

"But when I can't sleep Daddy lets me sleep beside him and Mummy. Can I stay in here tonight?"

"Not in the same bed, lassie," Jamie rolled out of the bed and tucked the blankets around the crying six- year- old. Kissing the little girl's cheek quickly, he found a chair in the corner of the room and sat down.

"You stay here?"

"I'll stay in this chair in the corner over here," he reassured her.

"But won't you be cold? You don't have a blanket."

"Ah no, lass. Me and yer Daddy are both Highlanders. Highlanders don't feel the cold."

"Okay," she snuggled further under the warm down cover and looked to be sleeping. Jamie sat and watched her all night, in case of nightmares. If she woke up he'd be there to make sure she was safe.

Cora came into the room later that night to see Jamie sitting in the exact same place he'd been all night.

"How's my girl?" she sat on the arm of the chair.

"Sleeping fer now," he answered, rubbing his eyes. "What are you doin' up?"

"Ben's havin' a rough go o' it too," she sighed. "He climbed in with me before Maggie did, hence why she came in here, I suppose."

"Well I dinna blame 'em," Jamie got up and leaned over his sleeping niece, checking that she was still breathing and sleeping soundly.

"Was real kind o' you t' stay," she mumbled.

"None o' that nonsense," Jamie shook his head. "Yer my sister, and I'm sworn t' protect ye no matter what."

"That went t' Alec soon as I married 'im," she insisted.

"Aye, I know that. I even gave 'im the whole speech bout treating ye right lest he wanted me on yer doorstep with a gun. But seeing as he's no here anymore, God rest his soul, it falls t' me."

"I cannae ask ye to take charge o' my family, Jamie," she insisted, staring at Margaret asleep on Jamie's bed.

"You're far too proud, Cora. You an' Ben an' Maggie are my family too."

"But…"

"I cannae let you and the bairns go destitute just because yer husband up and died. That's not right, and I will nae let that happen."

"But what about that young lady ye brought with ye the last time? What's her name, Bridget?"

"Aye, her name is Bridget."

"Are you ever gonna see her again?"

"No."

And sadly, it was the one answer he was absolutely sure of.


	16. Clumsy

**cakie313: Thank you, I'm so glad you enjoy it! I love writing it, Jamie and Bridget are so fun and dynamic that it (usually) comes easily. Here is the next chapter, thank you for the review.**

**ninewood: I know you reviewed the first and third chapter but I'm going to thank you here anyways, because that is what I do. Thank you so very much.**

**ooOoo**

_You need to understand, there's nothing strange about this, you need to know your friends, you need to know that, I'll be waving my hand, watching you drown, watching you scream, quiet or loud. And maybe you should sleep. And maybe you just need, a friend. As clumsy as you've been, there's no one laughing. You will be safe in here, oh you will be safe in here._

_Clumsy- Our Lady Peace_

**ooOoo**

Bridget walked around the console room, running her fingers over the walls.

"I never thought I'd be so glad to see this place," she mentioned to the Doctor.

"At least I don't have to explain how it's bigger on the inside to you again."

"And that's a good thing? I thought you looked forward to that," she teased.

"Oh I do, but after a while it gets quite redundant," he admitted. "Not that I'd ever say that out loud, of course."

"Right," she agreed. "How long have you been traveling alone?" _Please don't say for more than a day. That leads to very bad results._

"About a month, I should think," he admitted again, looking as though she were going to box his ears.

"Oh why?" she pleaded. "You know that's not a good idea. Bad things happen when you travel alone."

"Do they? How fascinating."

She glared at him. "What have you been doing for a month?"

"Wandering."

"That's all?"

"There was nothing else to do," he answered. "I need you and Jamie, more than you can imagine."

"But you must have traveled without companions before. Why is it that you suddenly cannot function without Jamie and I? That's not like you, Doctor. Not at all."

"I've changed, Bridget."

"Not that much, you haven't," she crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. "Where is this coming from, Doctor?"

He said nothing.

"You've been alone with your thoughts for too long," she deduced. "So, I suggest…"

"Would you like me to take you to Jamie?"

Bridget stopped in her tracks. "Pardon me?"

He repeated his question. He'd seen how she looked at Jamie, and how their relationship had developed. He still didn't know why she had left so suddenly in the first place (and it wasn't his place to ask), but he was sure she'd be much happier with Jamie than she would traveling with an old tramp such as himself.

She bit her tongue.

"No."

"No you wouldn't be happier with him? Or no you don't want to go back?"

"Both."

He shook his head. He was nearly 500 years old and had been without his wife for quite a while, and even _he_ could see it. What the hell was she thinking?

"You're just telling me what you know I want to hear."

"No I'm not."

"Yes you are," he answered. "You love Jamie, I can see it, but for some reason you won't admit it, even to yourself. Why are you denying yourself, Bridget?"

"Because I don't deserve him."

The Doctor blinked.

"Tell me how you could ever believe such a thing."

"Come on Doctor, me?" she pointed, making him look her in the eye. "Me? I'm from 2010, and I've been raped more times than I can count. Damaged goods."

"That never mattered to him, you know," it was a last ditch effort on his part. "You didn't give him a chance."

"I gave him plenty of chances, and he didn't take them," she argued.

"Because you didn't let him," the Doctor put his hands on her shoulders. "You stormed out of here like a bat out of hell. And once you'd gone he lost interest in anything and everything."

"It's not as though he demanded that you leave him here so he could try to explain himself."

"Jamie's not that stupid, Bridget. Tell me, had I done that, would you have listening to him?"

Silence.

"Precisely," he clapped his hands together once. "I shall ask you once more, Bridget. Do you want me to take you back to Jamie?"

"No," she insisted again. "No, I would rather travel with you for a while, if that's alright."

He smiled. "Of course it is. Where do you want to go first?"

**ooOoo**

Cora looked out the window at her brother and son walking toward the barn together. Having Jamie around to help after burying Alec had been a Godsend, though he still wouldn't say where he'd been. He'd been gone a year, and she'd had neither sight nor sound of him. Really, was it that much of an inconvenience to write and let them know he was okay? And Bridget… well that was a sore spot for him. And as his sister, she'd not pry.

Yeah right.

No matter how old you get, your younger brother is still your younger brother, and you'll pick at and prod them for answers to questions they don't want you asking until they either do answer, or they tell you to piss off.

She'd wait till her children were in bed, of course, because they'd be wondering why Mummy and Uncle Jamie were talking about some lady they'd never heard of. Plus they'd picked up a few new words, and there would be no referring to anyone as a strumpet, as she'd heard Benjamin refer to one such lady. He'd been correct, the lady had been of questionable reputation, but it wasn't polite, especially when the woman was right in the room.

"Please excuse my son, he seems to have forgotten his manners," she'd said, dragging him out of the room by his ear. "Ben, out to the barn with ye, now!"

The young boy had lived in fear of getting a whipping, but in the end she couldn't bring herself to do it. Alec had always been the one to discipline the children if they'd done something wrong. But now he was gone, and it wasn't the same. Nothing would ever be the same.

Putting the thought out of her head for the time being, she looked over at Jamie, who was resting his head on his hands.

"Jamie…"

"Hmm?" he looked up at her.

"Tell me about Bridget."

His mouth went tight as a zipper. "I'll not talk about Bridget."

"Why not?"

"I just don't want t'," he reasoned. "There was nothing worth savin'. Plus I'll nae be seeing her again, might as well get on with life. Forget I met 'er."

"Shut up," Cora growled.

Jamie's eyes went wide.

"I can nae stand a man who wallows in his own sorrow," she snapped. "If ye love someone, Jamie, you do whatever ye can t' make it right. Yer a McCrimmon, ye never give up so easily. Why are ye doin' this?"

"She could be anywhere in time and space, Cora," he reasoned. "She's nae coming back."

"And there's absolutely no way ye could reach her?"

He shook his head.

"Then ye know what ye have t' do," Cora nodded once, pushing her chair back. "Ye pick yerself up, and ye go on with life."

"Aye," he sat in the kitchen the rest of the night. He waited as Cora finished turning down the harth and cleaning out the pot over the fire. She closed the front door and went off to bed.

"Good night, Jamie."

"Aye, good night Cora," he answered, folding his hands on the table and staring out the window.

Full moon.

Jamie looked around, put his head down on the table, and said a very bad word.

**ooOoo**

Bridget opened the door of the TARDIS to find herself standing in mud. That always seemed to happen. No matter where they ended up, their adventures always seemed to start with her stepping in mud, or worse.

"It happened again!" she called back to him.

"Oh my dear, it's only a little dirt!"

"A little?" she nearly shouted, struggling to move. "A little dirt I can handle. _This_," she pointed downward, "is not a little dirt! I'm knee deep in this already! Where the hell are we, anyway?"

"You'll see soon enough," the Doctor answered. "Come along."

She rolled her eyes and followed him. After all, they'd been to so many different places. Some great, some not so great, some others where they'd had to fight for their lives (though it hadn't been on Axapta again. The Doctor seemed to have the greatest knack for finding places where the first thing people wanted to do was try to kill them. Fantastic.)

But they'd never anywhere like this. At the same time, however, it seemed almost familiar. There was a certain smell in the air. Something she couldn't quite put her finger on, but it was there.

She grabbed the Doctor's hand as he pulled her out of the mud and led her toward a small house at the bottom of a hill.

Wait a minute…

"No!" she breathed.

"Hmm?"

"We're not…"

He smirked. Gripping her hand tighter to ensure she couldn't run back to the TARDIS, the Doctor led her to the front door and knocked.

A tow-haired boy answered the door.

"Ello?"

Dear Lord, he couldn't be more than two and a half, maybe three, Bridget thought to herself.

"Hello there," the Doctor bent down to his level. "What is your name?"

"A'xander," the young boy answered, automatically holding out his hand.

"Alexander, my that's a very handsome name. My name is the Doctor," he introduced himself. "And this is my friend Bridget."

"You wanna talk my daddy?" the toddler asked, wiping a grubby hand on his britches.

"Oh if it's not a problem."

The little boy shook his head, turned so his back was to Bridget and the Doctor, took a deep breath and shouted "DADDY!" so long and loud Bridget fought not to cover her ears.

"Aye, what is it, ye wee rattan?" the boy's father turned the corner, looked up and dropped the cask of alcohol he was carrying from what Bridget assumed was the bedroom.

Bridget stood stock still, her mouth hanging open in shock.

Alexander's father was none other than one James Robert McCrimmon.

**ooOoo**

"Doctor," Jamie recovered his wits and picked up the cask. "Come in."

"Thank you, Jamie," the Doctor and Bridget stepped inside and removed their shoes.

"Alexander, will ye take this to yer ma?"

"Okay Daddy," the little boy took the cask and made his way back down the hallway. "Yer really pretty, lady," he told Bridget as he disappeared.

Both Jamie and Bridget blushed slightly.

"He's really cute, looks just like you," Bridget bit back bile. "Except he's… you know… blonde," she haphazardly pulled lightly at a strand of her own hair and let it fall.

"Aye, gets that from his ma," he poked at the fire.

"You shouldn't poke things with a stick, you know. It might jump up and get ya."

"Fire doesn't have any teeth," Jamie wouldn't even meet her gaze.

"How old is he?"

"Close to three."

"Oh…" her brow arched. "Then what year is this?"

"1753," Jamie mumbled as he sat down at the table. "It's been about… six or seven years since I last saw ye, Doctor."

"I see," the Doctor nodded. "And how are Cora and the children?"

"She married again."

"Was it arranged?"

"In a way."

"There's no middle ground Jamie," Bridget interrupted. "It was either arranged or it wasn't. Which was it?"

"He's a good man, Gordon is," Jamie still wouldn't meet Bridget's gaze, kept himself focused on the Doctor. "Took on the children as his own. And Cora loves 'im. She's happy, and so are Ben and Maggie."

"That's all well and good…"

"_I'm not invisible here, you know!_" Bridget nearly shouted.

"Aye, I know yer there. Couldn't miss you."

"Then why are you ignoring me?" Bridget demanded.

"Not ignoring you. I'm talking to ye right now, aren't I?"

"You're talking past me, you dolt! You're talking to the damn fireplace. Last time I checked stone fireplaces don't answer back."

"Perhaps I like its answers better," Jamie snapped. "Now, if you'd be so kind as to keep yer voice down. My wife's quite ill."

"Your wife?" Bridget's jaw nearly hit the table.

"Where do ye think Alexander came from?" Jamie's shoulders tensed. "I've got no bastard children, ye can be sure o' that."

"Can I?" she challenged.

"Why are ye so upset bout this?" Jamie asked. "Ye weren't gonna be coming back here anytime soon. I moved on."

"It's not like you made an effort to run after me," she challenged again.

"Well I couldn't very well leave my sister and her children to be thrown out o' their home, could I?"

"You had no idea that was going to happen," Bridget argued. "You just happened to be there when it did, and that was after I left at any rate. Why didn't you come after me?"

"Because there wasn't anything worth saving!" Jamie nearly roared, fighting to keep his voice under control.

Bridget looked stunned, as though her voice had completely failed her.

And damn him to hell, he'd done it. He'd said the one thing that she was terrified of knowing. Her fear that there had been nothing left to save between them. He was sure that was the one thing she'd been afraid of. He'd moved on, he had a wife and son, and she would have to accept it.

And it hurt like hell.

"Can we act like adults here, please?" the Doctor turned their attention away from each other. "Now, if you can talk like reasonable people, we can discuss why we came back here in the first place."

Bridget rolled her bottom lip and nodded curtly.

"Why would ye wait for me?" he asked. "I knew ye weren't coming back, and Cora was desperate."

"_Cora_ was desperate?" she repeated. "What do you mean? Why would she be desperate?"

"Because she'd lost her husband and she dinna ken why I'd be so sad. After all I'd not been marrit to ye, and ye'd nae been with child when ye'd left."

"Well that much is true. I wasn't pregnant, still not," she assured him.

"And she'd ken that I'd been in love with ye," he blurted, stunned at his own admission.

"First love is just that, Jamie. Infatuation. And that kind of love never goes away. I'm sure you fell in love again."

"Aye I did."

"And what's your wife's name?"

"Georgia," he answered. "Why do ye want t' know?"

"I have no vendetta against her at all, mere curiosity," she assured him. "I just… I'd hoped…"

"We can all hope, Bridget, but that doesn't always mean we get what we wish for."

And without saying another word, he pushed his chair back and made him way back toward his bedroom, where she could hear Georgia coughing and choking.

Bridget bit her tongue and looked to the Doctor. With a hand on her elbow, he guided her out of the little cottage and back to the TARDIS, where, upon opening the door, she squeezed her eyes shut, covered her ears, and muttered a very bad word.


	17. Precious

**ninewood: Yeah, uh oh. Just wait till you see what I have in store. Thank you so much for the numerous reviews and late night chats. I hope you enjoy this next chapter.**

**A/N: Tissues are available on the table in the corner. You have been warned. And please feel free to leave a review, the door is always open**

**ooOoo**

_Things get damaged, things get broken, I thought we'd manage, but what's left unspoken? Left us unwritten, there was so little left to give_

_Precious- Depeche Mode_

**ooOoo**

She slid down the wall, her hands still over her ears. She found she couldn't even speak. He had a wife and a son. God damn it, a wife and son! _She_ should have been his wife, _she_ should have been the one to bear him that son. She probably would have married him, had he asked her. Why had she been so stubborn and left at the first sign of trouble?

That boy looked just like him. If she stayed she'd forever be reminded that little Alexander McCrimmon was Jamie's son, his son with another woman at that. Perfect.

What had she been thinking, that he'd drop everything and suddenly declare his undying love for her? Of course he wouldn't, that rational voice in her head had reasoned. He had a wife and a son, he'd built a life back in Scotland. He'd done everything he could to help his sister and her children, and had fallen in love again. She couldn't begrudge him that. But now she realized she couldn't stay. There was nothing to hold her to Scotland.

Except for the fact that Georgia was very ill. Jamie had said she didn't have long to live, or rather, that's what she assumed. That coughing fit sounded like she'd been coughing out a lung, and perhaps she was. Bridget couldn't help but feel sorry for both Jamie and Alexander. Jamie would be losing a wife, and Alexander a mother, and there would be no one to help them pick up the pieces.

Part of her wanted to be a vindictive bitch and leave them to fend for themselves, like she'd had to do when she'd left the TARDIS. They could get along fine without her, just as they had before she'd come back.

The other part, however, recognized that she'd chosen to leave, she'd _chosen _to go back and attempt to put her life back together. Jamie and Alexander hadn't chosen this fate. Georgia hadn't chosen to get sick, she hadn't suddenly decided she was going to die, there was nothing they could do.

"Oh damn!" she muttered. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"How could I be so stupid?" she muttered through gritted teeth. "How could I assume that he'd suddenly confess he was still in love with me?"

"You had no idea of knowing what became of Jamie," the Doctor insisted. "For all you knew, he could have been waiting for you."

"But he didn't, that's the point," Bridget fought back tears. "He met someone else and fell in love with her. And they have a son!" she could barely manage that last sentence. "A son that looks just like his father. Jamie's boy looks just like him."

"Most children resemble their fathers, at least for a few years."

"That isn't the point, Doctor," Bridget got up and paced the floor, looking for something to keep her hands occupied. "If I hadn't been so rash Alexander McCrimmon could have been _my_ son!"

"But would you have been happy with that decision?"

"What decision? To stay with Jamie and learn what it actually means to love another person? _Of course_ I would have, why makes you think I wouldn't?"

"If you say so, my dear."

She rolled her eyes and shook her head once. "I'm going to go drink till I pass out now."

The Doctor said nothing in response. He was sure she wouldn't actually do such a thing, but she needed time to recuperate, and he'd give her the privacy in which to do so. Finding out the man you love has married and had a child with someone else was a huge shock to the system.

She re-emerged a few hours later, but still said nothing. Her eyes were absolutely dead. He made her a cup of strong, sweet tea to ward off the aftereffects of shock. He was sure she'd slept for those few hours, and if he was honest, she had needed it. Poor dear. There wasn't much he could do for her, other than offer to take her away from Scotland and continue traveling.

"We should stay, Doctor," she insisted once she'd recovered her wits, sipping her tea as she did so.

He nodded. He'd heard the coughs as well, and if he was right, Jamie would very soon be a widower. His parents were gone, and he'd made no mention of Georgia's mother or father, so he assumed Jamie would be left to raise Alexander on his own.

"Do you want to stay simply to help Jamie?"

"Yes of course. Why?"

The Doctor coughed once.

"You don't think…" her eyes went wide in shock.

The Doctor looked sheepish.

"Really Doctor, you think I'd stoop that low? Move in on Georgia's territory when she's not even cold in her grave? That's too horrible to even contemplate."

Suddenly he felt every bit as horrible for suggesting such a thing.

"I somehow doubt Jamie would be able to explain to Alexander what's going to happen."

"Well I'm sure he's prepared him. Alexander has more than likely seen that his mother is ill."

"Yes but someone being ill and someone dying are two very different things," Bridget reasoned. "Children generally believe that when someone is ill, someone else can find a way to make them better. It doesn't matter what year you're born in, or how old you are, you always want someone to make the sickness go away."

"Children in this age understand that there's only so much you can do," the Doctor answered. "They don't have the hospitals or medications or even the expertise to keep someone alive for long, even if they are on death's door."

"But even so, when someone does die, children don't see it as a natural progression. One day that person was there, and then they aren't. And then they realize that that person is not coming back, and that's not fair, Doctor," she insisted. "As big a shock as this is, I don't believe for a second that Georgia deserves this."

"Well what does she deserve?"

"Everything that I can't have," she answered, taking a deep breath and opening the TARDIS door. "I'm going to go for a walk. I don't know how long I'll be."

About two hours later (by her estimation, anyway. She'd only walked for about half an hour and had been sitting on a hill watching the stars for a while), someone else appeared beside her. He sat down and draped one hand over his bent knee.

"Georgia died tonight," he said, simply, sighing.

"Oh Jamie," she breathed, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. "When?"

"About an hour ago," he admitted, his head resting on her shoulder.

"I'm so sorry," she reached her hand up and laid it against his temple. "Who's got Alexander?"

"The Doctor said he'd look after 'im for a bit. I needed to get some air."

"That's reasonable," she answered.

Jamie's eyes looked dead, almost as though he couldn't believe it had actually happened. While he'd been expecting it, he'd always tried to keep an optimistic point of view for Alexander's sake. There was a big difference between telling your son that his mother is having either a good or a bad day and telling your son that his mother's died.

And damn it all, he had no one else. Bridget and the Doctor wouldn't be there forever, he'd be on his own again. Granted, he hadn't spent the last three years living in a cave, he'd made a life for himself, established a farm and a family. This was what he had to do now, he couldn't drop everything to travel anymore.

He felt lost.

He had absolutely no idea what he was going to do. Georgia, the centre of his entire world and the mother of his child, was dead. He'd watched her wither away and cough out bits of her lungs each and every day, but it was still too difficult to comprehend.

But now Bridget was sitting beside him in the cold, holding him but saying nothing. He lifted his head from her shoulder and turned his head.

She placed a finger to his lips to stop him. "No."

"I don't know what to do," he pleaded.

"And kissing me isn't going to make it any better," she brushed a strand of hair out of his eye. "You're tired and you're in shock, Jamie. You wouldn't be acting like this otherwise."

"What should I do then?"

She stripped him of his jacket and bunched it up. "Lay your head on this."

"But…"

"Lay down," she repeated.

He complied, resting his head on his jacket in the grass.

"Now just rest for a few minutes. I'll watch out for you."

He gave her a small smile, more than likely thinking the entire situation ironic. Normally he'd be the one saying such a thing, but at this point he was too tired to even care.

**ooOoo**

Alexander climbed back into his bed, holding back a tantrum. Big boys didn't cry, he said to himself. Daddy always says that big boys don't cry.

But he wasn't a big boy, he thought. He was little. And he wanted his daddy. Where did Daddy go? And why couldn't he go and see Mummy? Mummy liked when he came to tell her stories before she went to sleep at night.

The front door opened, and he heard voices. One sounded like Daddy, but he didn't know who the lady was. She didn't sound like Mummy at all. Was she the other pretty lady who came with that strange little man in the funny jacket and shoes?

He climbed out of bed and followed the sound of Daddy's voice, dragging his stuffed bear in one hand.

"Daddy?" he asked, rubbing his eye.

**ooOoo**

Jamie froze mid-sentence, turning to see Alexander staring at him with sleepy eyes.

"What're ye doing out o' bed?" he stood up and lifted his son into his lap.

"No sleep," he protested.

"No' sleeping, huh?" Jamie repeated. "Why can't ye sleep?"

"Want Daddy," he nearly bonked his head into Jamie's chest. "Want Mummy too."

Jamie looked to Bridget and the Doctor, completely at a loss.

The Doctor nodded, answering an unspoken question that hung in the air.

Jamie very gently but firmly put his hands over Alexander's ears, and said a very bad word.

It had taken about an hour and a half before Alexander had gone back to sleep. Jamie and Bridget had combined forces (Bridget sang lullabies while Jamie told him a story about a ghoulie that haunted the bedrooms of little children if they didn't go to sleep on time). Of course, Jamie's story had terrified the boy beyond belief, and Bridget had had to come to the rescue by telling him a fairy tale (specifically Jack and the Beanstalk). It had also involved numerous protests, screaming fits, and quite a few cries of "But I need a drink of water!" before he'd finally settled down.

When they'd finally gotten him to sleep, Jamie looked as though he'd lost a particularly nasty bar fight. All the energy had gone from his body, and he looked fit to collapse at any moment.

Bridget pulled the chair out from the table and got Jamie to sit down. If he wasn't going to sleep yet he could at least get off his feet and get his head together.

"You'll have to tell him soon, ye know."

"Aye, just not at 2 in the morning," Jamie answered, gripping the edge of the table for support. "But how do I tell 'im?"

"I can tell him if you like," Bridget offered. "If it's alright with the Doctor I'll stay the night and once Alexander is fully awake tomorrow I'll tell him."

Jamie looked to the Doctor, who nodded once. He'd been wrong to suggest Bridget having an ulterior motive, he thought to himself. Humans could be conniving and sneaky when needed, but he could see now that she really did just want to help.

"That's settled then," she pulled a blanket from the settee and motioned that Jamie should lie there.

He looked at her as though she'd grown an extra head.

"Well if you're not going to sleep at least lie down," she explained. "You are, for all intents and purposes, running on empty. If you just lie down you're giving yourself time to recuperate."

"Aye," he did as she asked.

And in 5 minutes time he was completely asleep.

**ooOoo**

The morning came all too soon. Alexander came into the kitchen looking for Jamie, wanting a morning cuddle. He certainly was an affectionate child, which, to his credit, would serve him well as he got older. Then again, most toddlers were affectionate in some way. They still had that survival instinct, to cling to Mum whenever they needed reassurance. Alexander was no different, and since his Mum wasn't there, he made do with his Dad.

"Where's Mummy?" he asked, thumb in his mouth.

"Oh sweetheart," Bridget whispered, picking Alexander up out of Jamie's lap and cuddled him against her breast. "Come on, you and me will sit down together."

"Where's Mummy?" Alexander repeated, his huge brown eyes watering ever so slightly.

Jamie cringed at the question.

"Well," Bridget sighed. "Do you remember how Mummy was very sick?"

The boy nodded.

"And do you remember how Daddy and all the doctors that came to help gave her medicine?" she looked to Jamie over her shoulder. He nodded. What she was telling Alexander was correct.

"Uh huh. Yucky med'cine," he informed her.

"Yes, sometimes medicine can be yucky," Bridget agreed. "Well sometimes medicine doesn't always work."

"No' always work?" he parroted.

"That's right," Bridget was struggling to keep herself calm. "And this time, Mummy's medicine didn't work."

"Where's Mummy?" he asked again.

"Mummy died this morning, sweetheart, while you were asleep," Bridget managed. It wasn't the whole truth, but it would suffice.

Alexander's eyes went wide, his bottom lip trembling. "No! I no want Mummy be dead!" he wailed, curling against Bridget as a baby might.

"I know, sweetheart," she looked over at Jamie again, who had his head down, unable to stomach the sight of his young son crying. Although, Bridget could swear his shoulders were heaving as well. "I know… but sometimes our bodies get too tired, and they say no more."

Alexander howled, distraught.

"It's alright," she whispered, rocking the young boy back and forth. "It's alright…"

But almost as soon as the waterworks started, they stopped.

"I go play now?"

"Yes of course," Bridget pulled a tissue from her pocket. "Blow…"

Alexander loudly blew his nose and went back to his bedroom, talking to his teddy.

Bridget breathed a sigh of relief as Jamie came over to the settee and wrapped his arms around her in gratitude.

"Thank you."

"Expect more of that, though," Bridget hugged him back. "It's going to be a very whiny and fussy day. A lot of 'I miss Mummy' and 'Where did Mummy go' and 'Did I do something wrong'."

"I dinna ken I can do it on my own."

"Yes you can, you're going to have to eventually," she told him. "But I'll stay. Till you and Alexander are settled again."

"But the Doctor can't come back for ye."

"I know," she buried her face in his shoulder only for a moment. "But I don't care."


	18. The Never Ending Why

**ninewood: I know it was said, it's meant to be sad, but all things considered, it's for the best. And I love writing little Alex, he's adorable, and I don't have to justify the things he says because he's a toddler. Thank you for the review**

**A/N: Posted a few days early because ninewood sent me a message asking if I would, and I obliged. Enjoy the chapter, and please feel free to leave a review, the door is always open.**

**ooOoo**

_The atom will implode, the fragile kingdom fold. The tremor becomes a quake, and there's a body in the lake. And as the two of us rebel, damn you all to hell. I wonder is this all there is? Time will help you through, but it doesn't have the time, to give you all the answers, to the never- ending why._

_The Never- Ending Why- Placebo_

**ooOoo**

Bridget had been right. It had been a day of constant questions and temper tantrums. Though she could hardly fault Alexander for it, he didn't understand why he was crying, all he knew was that something wasn't right. He probably could not remember that Georgia was dead, just that she wasn't there when he wanted her and that wasn't right.

"Don't punish him, Jamie. Remember he doesn't know why he's crying," Bridget had told him.

The stress of being a new widower was taxing on him as well. "Who are you to tell me how to raise my son?"

"I'm your friend, Jamie, and I want to help you. That's all," she answered calmly and patiently. "Remember I lost my mother as well, and I had to deal with it without help."

"That was how long ago?"

"Less than two years, if we count backward," she answered. "But I have no one left there. That was the whole reason I wanted to travel with the Doctor again."

"To find me?"

"No," she admitted. "I just wanted to travel for a while. The Doctor just happened to land in my backyard as I was pulling weeds, and asked if I wished to come with him again. But believe me when I say I didn't want to come back here."

"And yet here ye are."

"The Doctor seems to have an incredible knack for landing the TARDIS in places we never want to see again."

"Ye dinna want to come here again?"

"And find out that you'd married and had a son by another woman? Who wouldn't want to find that out? That made my life worth living!"

Jamie couldn't miss the blatant sarcasm.

"It's no' as though I'd been unfaithful to ye," he reasoned, quite calm considering the circumstances.

"No that's true at any rate," she acknowledged. "I have no idea why I'd have thought that you'd wait for me, as though I'd suddenly drop out of the sky and land naked on your front step."

He nearly laughed. "Where'd ye get an idea like that?"

"Oh just…"

Jamie raised an eyebrow.

"A dream…"

His expression didn't change.

"That I had…"

Again, it didn't change.

"After too much pizza and beer one night. Anyway…" she shook her head. "After I left I missed you terribly. But I'm glad you found Georgia. After all I told you to find a good Scottish girl to start a family with. Do you remember that?"

"Aye, of course," he got up and went to the kitchen, where he pulled open a drawer and took out a letter still in its envelope, her scrawl on the front.

"You kept it?"

"Aye I did," he answered, hanging his head.

Bridget got up and put her hand over his, resting her head against his shoulder. "I'm not the one you're supposed to be focusing on right now. Put it away, and tell me about Georgia."

And he did. He told her all about how he'd met Georgia. Her last name had been Cameron. Cora had been great friends with Georgia's sister, Mary, and had introduced the two. They'd got on well enough, but at the time Jamie had still been missing Bridget terribly. It turned out that Cora had become increasingly desperate for him, since he'd moped after her for the longest time, and while he still got his work done, Cora had refused to see her brother spiral any further into a depression, so she'd suggested that he marry Georgia.

He'd agreed, but in a way Cora had known that he wasn't really interested at first. He'd still married her, but he'd had to grow to love her. And when Georgia had told him she was expecting a baby, he'd been ecstatic. They'd both wanted a boy, and when he showed up, he'd been more in love with her than ever. Not just because she'd borne him a son, but because he'd actually grown to love her at any rate. And learning to love someone was so extremely difficult, no matter if you love for the first time or the sixth.

Throughout all this Bridget couldn't help but wonder if Georgia knew about her, about the Doctor. But of course she wouldn't, if he'd told her she'd have thought him mad. How does one explain a blue box that travels through time and space to different planets and civilizations?

"Was she a virgin when you married her?"

Jamie raised an eyebrow.

"Right, personal question. Sorry."

He said nothing in response. He later told her more about their wedding, how she'd walked down the aisle in the church on Gordon's arm, as her father was no longer living. She'd worn Cora's old dress, her dowry not very substantial, but at that point he hadn't cared. He had missed Bridget terribly, and was only marrying Georgia because Cora had begged him to do so. Not only to keep him from sinking further into depression but also to protect Georgia, for all intents and purposes. A woman of 25 and still a maid was considered a spinster and therefore a target for those with nefarious thoughts. Even if he didn't know her well, Jamie would not allow anything like that to happen.

And she'd been right. Their wedding night had been a night of exploration. He'd not let slip that he'd taken Georgia's maidenhead, but in the end it was all but implied. Poor thing, he could still remember her face, her eyes pinched shut before the pain subsided. But he wouldn't tell Bridget that, that was private, no matter how good of a friend she was.

And then he'd shown her Alexander's birth certificate. Why, she had no idea, but if it was important to him, then so be it, she'd listen. It proudly stated that Alexander Broderick William Cameron McCrimmon was born on the 24th November 1750 to James Robert McCrimmon and his wife Georgia Abigail Cameron. Delivered by…

"Cora delivered your son?" Bridget's jaw dropped.

"Aye, there was no one else," Jamie answered. "She's the midwife for a lot of other families 'round here too. If she'd nae got there in time Georgia was liable to deliver him on 'er own."

"And he was healthy?"

"A healthy little terror, more like," Jamie muttered. "Kept us both awake all night every night for two months straight. Colic and fussing. Georgia said more often than not that if he wasn't her own flesh and blood she'd have left him to the fairies a long while before."

"Surely she didn't actually mean that."

"No, I ken she didn't. She loved 'im more than anyone. And that's the way it should be."

"I think little boys love their mothers a lot more."

"And little girls love their father more, I ken?"

"Well I don't love my father, that's for damn sure, but I can't speak for everyone. In general, yes, I think most girls are 'Daddy's girls' till they get older. But some never grow up."

He nodded. "Yer sure ye want t' stay?"

"I can't leave you and Alexander."

"What about the Doctor?"

"He's been alone before."

"Aye, but even if he accepts that yer leaving, it's no less painful for 'im."

"I know," she shrugged her shoulders. "But you don't have anyone to help you, and your boy is going to need a whole lot of love and cuddles and reassurance. Poor baby's all confused, doesn't understand what's happened, and with you working all the time you can't expect him to be able to self-soothe."

"Tell me Bridget, are ye offering to stay only because Georgia's gone? If you'd come back to find that Georgia was nae ill and up and about, would ye have stayed?"

She took a deep breath. "I don't know."

"Thought so," he shook his head. "Ye know, Bridget, I was perfectly content to nae see you again."

"As was I, but here we are."

"So why did ye choose today of all days t' come back? On the worst day of my life, here ye come waltzing in like nothing happened."

"That's how you see me? Oh please get over yourself," she scoffed. "Like nothing happened? The Doctor practically dragged me kicking and screaming. I didn't know Alexander was your son till you reappeared from your bedroom! I just wanted to travel, because I knew I couldn't have you! You think this hurts me any less?"

"Probably, ye didn't just lose yer wife."

"Look, I don't mean to get you all riled up. I'm willing to help you if you want me to stay. But if not, you know I can't wait."

"Aye I know," he rubbed the back of his head. "But where will ye stay?"

"I'll sleep in the stables if I have to. I'm sure if I were to stay in your house so soon after your wife died it'll cause a scandal."

"I can just say you're a relative and you need a place to stay."

"But would they really buy that?"

"Probably not," he confessed. "But I can't do it on my own. I've got no idea how t' handle 'im. Least not the way you or Georgia can."

"What do you mean?"

"I saw the way you talked to him there," Jamie's swore someone was throwing rocks at the inside of his skull. "He was sad for a few minutes but then decided he wanted t' go off and play. I dinna ken what ye did…"

"That wasn't me," she insisted. "It's a big and scary concept for such a little boy. Death is scary. And by asking if he can go and play, he's creating his own safety net. He doesn't quite understand what's happened, but he knows something is different, and he's trying to make everything right again, in his own way."

"Do weans do that most o' the time?"

"Well remember I said he doesn't quite know that he's doing it?" Bridget told him. "It's not a bad thing, any child will find a way to help themselves deal with feelings they don't understand. Some will sleep, some will need more affection, some will play… Alexander is playing."

"So I should no be worried about it?"

"I shouldn't think so," she answered.

The Doctor came back into the room and clapped his hands once. "Well Bridget, it's time we were off."

Bridget looked at Jamie with sad eyes. Biting her bottom lip, she pushed herself up out of her chair and went over to the door. Jamie followed suit.

The Doctor held out his hand. "I'm sorry for your loss, Jamie."

Jamie nodded, biting his lip to keep himself from crying.

"I'll not forget ye, Doctor," he insisted.

"I won't forget you either," the Doctor assured him.

Bridget reached up and put her arms around his neck, hugging him close. "I'm going to miss you, you know."

"Aye," he whispered, holding her longer than he should have.

It was the hardest thing she'd ever had to do, turning and walking away without saying another word.

And it tore his heart into pieces. It took all his strength to keep himself from running after her. He closed the door behind them and sat down at the table, putting his head down and thinking very bad thoughts.

**ooOoo**

Bridget stuck her earphones in, pressing her hands over her ears to keep herself from looking back. She squeezed her eyes shut and kept walking.

"I made the right choice," she whispered. "I know I made the right choice."

"Hmm?"

"Nothing," she attempted to smile at him.

"No no," he stopped, turned around, and gently put his hands on her shoulders. Smiling, he very gently popped the earphones out of her ears and let them dangle from her pocket. "What is it?"

"I'm walking away when they need me the most," her voice wavered. "Jamie's wife has just died, he's grieving, and his little boy needs someone to tell him things are going to be alright."

"They'll be fine, Bridget. Everyone needs time to heal and move on."

"It's hard enough when they have family to help them. Jamie and Alexander don't have _anyone_, and I know just how hard that is. I can't let them suffer that, Doctor, I just can't."

"Oh my dear," he ran a thumb under her eye, gently wiping away a tear.

"But I can't leave you either, Doctor. If I go, who do you have?"

"They need you more than I do," he insisted. "And I cannot keep you."

"What does that mean?"

"I know you, Bridget. You have a good heart, and you'd never stay with me knowing that the man you love needs you more than ever."

Her mouth dropped open. He'd said it so quickly she was sure she'd misheard him. Digging into her pocket, she realized she had no tissues. She shook her head slightly, and, with all her strength, forced herself to pull her iPod and a sealed envelope out of her pocket.

That little device had been her constant companion for years. She'd never gone anywhere without it. It contained everything she'd ever needed, every song for every mood and every occasion, and now…

"Keep this with you, Doctor," she placed it in his palm and curled his fingers around it. "And every time you see it, think of me, and all that you did to help me. I am who I am now because of you."

His lips pressed together, he nodded and placed the device in his pocket.

And for the last time, he wrapped his arms around Bridget Leila Grey, whispered a few words in her ear, and let her go.

He watched as she turned back toward the little cottage, looking more beautiful than he'd ever seen her.

**ooOoo**

"Daddy?" Alexander pulled on Jamie's breeches.

"Yes son?"

"Where the pretty lady?"

"What pretty lady?"

"The lady who me cuddles."

"Bridget?"

"Yeah, Bridet," he answered. "She pretty. Like Mummy."

"Yes she is very pretty," Jamie bent down and picked him up, setting him on his hip. "And she was very nice to give you a cuddle."

"Where she go?"

Jamie had no answer to give him.

"Where she go?" Alexander repeated. "Daddy, where she go?"

He sighed. "Home."

"Where home?"

Jamie kissed his son's temple and set him down again. "I don't…"

He looked out the window to see someone in a pale blue dress walking toward the house.

Jamie stood unmoving, mouth open. Was that? Was she? No, it couldn't be… could it? No… no not at all.

**ooOoo**

"Bridget?" he muttered.

"Bridet? Where Bridet?" Alexander's eyes lit up. He gripped the heavy wooden door and pulled with all the strength he could muster. Since it wasn't too tightly closed he got it open and took to his heels. "Bridet! Bridet back! Bridet!" he ran to her as quickly as he could, tripping and falling as he ran, slipping on damp grass. "Bridet!" he threw himself into her arms.

"Hey you!" she smiled and lifted him up, settling him on her hip. "Oh my God, you're such a big boy!"

"Not big!"

"You're not big?" she chuckled. "Come on, let's go and see your Daddy, hmm?"

"No want Daddy!"

"Why not?" Bridget stopped walking and looked at the little boy with his thumb in his mouth.

"Want Bridet!" he insisted, wrapping his arms around Bridget's neck.

"Oh I see," Bridget held him close and walked back to the house, all the while keeping an eye on Jamie as she did so. He had the look of a man who didn't dare hope.

Perhaps hope was too strong a word.


	19. My Apology

**ninewood: No problem... here's what happens next. Thank you for the review.**

**A/N: Everyone's in shock! But in a good way *smiles*. And please feel free to leave a review, the door is always open**

**ooOoo**

_When cruelty comes with blind indifference, my humanity becomes the best defense. But if you consider the alternative, I really didn't have that much to give. You didn't see, that I was sorry. This has to be, my apology._

_My Apology- Great Big Sea_

**ooOoo**

Jamie still stood wide eyed, not daring to believe that Bridget was standing in front of him, holding his son to her shoulder and carrying him back into the house. When she set the little boy down and he made his way back to his bedroom, he could only stare at her. Was she really standing in his doorway? Was she really carrying his son into the house? Or was he just imagining things?

"Now, you go and get into your nightclothes, and Daddy will say goodnight, alright?"

"Okay Bridet," he gave her a toothy grin. "You say night too?"

"Yes I'll come in and say goodnight too," she assured him. "Now off you go."

He grinned at Jamie and scampered off to his bedroom, wanting nothing more than to get to his destination.

If Bridget didn't know any better she'd think he had a bit of a crush on her.

Jamie waited until Alexander was out of sight before tapping her on the shoulder.

"Bridget?" he managed.

"Yes?" she turned around and stared back at him. He put his hand on her cheek.

"Yer real, aren't ye?"

"Yes," she assured him. "Yes I'm here."

He looked almost frightened. His knuckle ran down her skin as he took in the sight of her. He didn't want to believe she was actually there, how could she be? He'd seen her leave with the Doctor!

"Why?"

"Because you need me," she answered, her eyes beginning to water. "I couldn't leave you with Georgia so soon gone. I had to do the same thing, learning to live without my mother there, and I couldn't let you go through it on your own."

He resisted the urge to take her into his arms and squeeze her tightly.

But Bridget could see he was shaking with the effort. She took a step closer and very gently hugged him close.

She could almost feel his face pinch with the effort of keeping himself from crying. But in reality she knew he was hurting, and he really didn't know how to let himself go.

"Jamie…"

"Hmm?"

"Remember how I said you don't have to be ashamed of your emotions?"

He let her know that yes, he did remember, but with his son in such close quarters, he'd not let him see his father showing weakness.

"But emotion isn't weakness, Jamie," she got him to sit down on the couch. "Showing emotion lets people know just how strong you are. It takes a very strong man to cry, and crying when a loved one dies is okay. It is not a bad thing."

"If I do I might nae stop."

"And if you don't stop for a long while, that's okay too," she insisted.

"Bridget," he took her in his arms. "I dinna ken what t' do. I want t' mourn Georgia like a proper widower, and then I want t' take ye to bed and cry in yer lap like a baby till I feel sick, and then I want t' sleep with ye beside me, but I can't."

"No you can't," she met his gaze. "You can't take me to bed because I am not your wife, nor your lover. Wanting that sort of contact is normal when you've had a nasty shock or been in a life- threatening situation. However," she put a finger underneath his chin and made him look at her. "If you need to lay your head in my lap and cry like a baby, that's fine, because you're my friend and that's what friends are for," and, perhaps a little too boldly, kissed a tear falling from his eye.

Alexander must have gone to sleep on his own because they heard no such call for them to tuck him into bed. Jamie could only stare at her when she pulled away, her hand on his cheek.

His face pinched and his shoulders heaved.

"There we go," she whispered as he laid his head in her lap and began to sob. "It's alright…" she smoothed his brown hair away from his eyes. "When the tears are on the outside the inside is healing."

It took him well over an hour to calm himself, and when he did he slept for near on the entire night. She herself found she couldn't sleep at all, for she couldn't move, and in a way, she was scared to do so. What if he woke up?

She did all she could to keep her eyes open, but in the end sleep won out. With Jamie's head in her lap, she rested her head on the back of the sofa. When she awoke the next morning, her legs were numb, and when she looked at Jamie asleep on her lap, she smiled. He looked almost peaceful, a small amount of swelling around his nose from crying. But it had been good for him, and for her as well. Now she hoped he knew he could trust her.

When he got up and walked down to the privy, she swung her legs back and forth to encourage blood flow, and when she got herself up, it was only a few minutes before Alexander emerged from his bed, clutching his teddy bear and pulling on her skirt.

"Breakfast?" he asked.

"You want breakfast?" I repeated. "Okay, let's go to the pantry and see what we've got…"

Alexander took her hand and led her toward the pantry. It seemed he spent a good amount of time in said room, either rooting around for sweets (but sugar hadn't gotten to the Highlands yet as far as she knew, maybe it was just honey he was after), or he liked to hide and jump out shouting BOO to anyone who just happened to come in.

"Breakfast?"

"Well I see…" she opened a dry sack. Oats. Perfect.

"There's oats, so you can have oatmeal… oatmeal or… oatmeal. Take your pick."

He thought the fact that she had repeated the same thing three times in a sarcastic tone absolutely hilarious, and he fell over hollowing with laughter. "You're funny, Bridet. I want… oatmeal."

"Oatmeal? Okay. Do you think you can carry this?" she asked.

"Uh huh!" he bent down and pulled on the sack, straining with the effort of trying to move a heavy, half-filled bag of dry oats.

"Here, why don't I take it, hmm?" she made sure the bag was securely fastened and hoisted it up on her shoulder.

"Okay," he answered, a little upset that he wasn't strong enough. "I help?"

"Well you can help to stir the oats once we start making breakfast, but not just yet, okay? This is too heavy."

"Okay…" he pulled the panty door open and held it so she could bring it through to the kitchen.

"Thank you, young sir," she smiled at him.

He beamed. Any time someone talks to you like you're grown up, you preen, especially when you're close to three years old, and Alexander was no exception. Truth be told, both Bridget and Alexander had a great time preparing breakfast that morning. Sure, it may have been a little burned, but there was no mistaking the huge smile on his face as he explained to Jamie that he had made breakfast. At first he said he'd done it all by himself, but when Bridget giggled, he remembered to say that she'd helped, but only a little bit.

She was content to let him take the credit.

**ooOoo**

The Doctor landed the TARDIS and reached a hand into his pocket. Bridget's still sealed envelope awaited him, and, very quietly, he opened it and pulled out the letter. It explained to him all about how she'd been sure she'd be alone for the rest of her life, and how she was content with that. But when she'd met him everything had changed. The adventure and the friendship and the people she'd helped. She'd never forget any of it. But that last question was the one that hit him the hardest.

_Is there any way you can take me back to Jamie?_ A question that later changed to _Doctor please don't take me back_. The undertone to the latter, however, was one of longing. Perhaps what she'd meant was _Doctor, you need to find a way of convincing me that I should go back._

Oh he had found a way, but it was through no fault of his own. It had been her own developing conscience. There was no way she'd have been able to leave Alexander without a mother figure. Even if she wasn't the boy's biological mother, she'd not stop at anything to help Jamie raise him. That wasn't to say that Jamie couldn't do it on his own, but they all knew he'd need a lot of help.

He missed her, as he knew he would. But he'd always find someone else to travel with. Both Jamie and Bridget needed to live their own lives as they saw fit, whether it was together or for her to find someone else. She'd known that if she stayed in 1753, she'd not be able to leave. She'd have to learn to live as a Highland woman would, and even with all that, she'd told him that she didn't care, she'd do whatever she had to do.

He wished her luck at any rate.

**ooOoo**

"It takes a full year to get over someone," Bridget told Jamie as she combed out Alexander's hair. "But there's no law saying that you have to get over her completely by that time."

"Aye…"

"Daddy love Mummy?"

"Of course I love yer mum," he reassured his son, but his eyes were dead. Bridget wondered if he was just paying lip service.

He was speaking in present terms still, she noticed. Still, she didn't blame him. Georgia's death was still so fresh it wasn't uncommon for people to still be speaking in such a way.

"Love Bridet?"

Jamie bit his lip, his eyes wide. "Say again?"

"Daddy love Bridet?"

He wasn't even three years old and even he could see it. Why did children have to be so damn perceptive all the time?

"Yes, I think so, but in a different way," Bridget came to the rescue.

"Aye, in a different way," Jamie agreed. "You love your pony, right?"

"Yeah!"

"Kind of like that."

Bridget didn't know how to react to that. How can you compare loving a human being to loving a pony? Well, if they're small and spry enough…

_Mind meet gutter. This will be your residence for the foreseeable future_.

"We play?" Alexander asked.

"After breakfast," Bridget took a bite of her breakfast. "Eat your oatmeal."

"Okay," Alexander picked up a full spoon and very comically clamped his mouth over the entire thing. He pulled the spoon out and noisily chewed the gluey mass, smiling as he did so. "See, I eat!"

"Alexander, please do not talk with your mouth full," Bridget told him. "And sit on the pillow that God gave you."

He cocked his head to the side.

"Sit your bum down," she clarified.

Alexander did as she asked.

"Thank you," Bridget nodded over his head to Jamie. "How's breakfast, Daddy? We've not heard anything since you came in."

"Yeah Daddy!" Alexander got on to his knees on the chair and stared at his father intently. "It good?"

"Yes it's very good," Jamie assured his son, finishing his own bowl and setting it in the sink. "Bridget, do ye mind clearing up? One of the cows is 'bout t' calf, and she'll nae wait."

"Calf? You mean, she's giving birth?"

"Well she's doing fine enough on her own so far. If she wasn't she'd be letting us know, and loudly at that," he answered.

"Alright," she nodded, knowing that she wouldn't mind having someone as well acquainted with farming and animal husbandry as Jamie out there with a poor young lass in labour, animal or human. "Will you come and get us when the calf arrives? I've never seen a newborn calf before."

She saw him give her a small smile. "O' course," he turned and closed the front door behind him.

Alexander and I cleaned and scoured the dishes from breakfast and set to playing with some of his handmade toys on his bedroom floor. He had a spinning top and a few stuffed animals, but frankly that was all they needed. A child's imagination was only muddled by the limitations placed on it, and it seemed that Alexander had no such limitations. These stuffed animals ended up being the other children he didn't get to see on a regular basis, but the adventures that those toys could have with just a spinning top and a field to run in… oh how she wished she could have had such an imagination.

"The calf's here," Jamie leaned against Alexander's doorframe.

"Oh excellent!" she beamed at him, looking back to see Alexander making a different toy into a boat tooting its way across the blanket that substituted water. "Alexander…" she made her way on her knees to the bed.

"Huh?"

"Daddy says the new baby calf is here. Do you want to go see?"

His eyes lit up. "Yeah!"

So the three of them set out to the barn where the cow was standing and encouraging her calf to suckle. "Daddy, is boy or girl?"

"It's a girl," he answered.

"I name it?" he looked at Jamie with big brown eyes, unashamedly begging.

"If ye like," they watched the calf unlatched itself from its mother's teat and walk on wobbly legs around the pen. The presently unnamed female calf stumbled and pitched forward, falling and whining for her mother. Sure enough, Mama did come over and nudge the little thing up to her feet again. "What name do ye have in mind?" Jamie answered his son as they watched this take place.

"Um…" the two and a half year old put a finger to his lips and titled his head, pondering this ever-important, big boy decision. "Oatmeal!"

"Oatmeal? Ye wanna name her Oatmeal? Why?"

"Like oatmeal," Alexander explained. "I name her." He staked his claim on the calf once again.

"Yes you can name her anything you want," Bridget moved and put her hand on Jamie's shoulder. "Oatmeal is a very good name, Daddy. At least he didn't pick Mooey or Ninny."

Jamie sighed, shrugging his shoulder. "Aye, that's true. Oatmeal it is."

She still didn't know what exactly was going to happen to the three of them. She could argue all she wanted that she was only there to help Jamie get back on his feet after Georgia's passing, but she was already forming an emotional attachment to Alexander, small as he was. He would be needing a mother figure, and he seemed to like her well enough, and so she'd do whatever she could to help.

What a funny little foursome we make, Bridget thought to herself as Jamie lifted Alexander up for a better view, chuckling and pointing at the cow and her new calf now named Oatmeal. Jamie and Alexander McCrimmon, Bridget Grey, and Oatmeal the cow.

What had she gotten herself into?


	20. Our Lives

**ninewood: Alex makes me smile, and Oatmeal was Alex's idea, not mine. You know how characters just all of a sudden go 'This is what I want'? That's what he did, and he wanted to name the calf Oatmeal. *smiles* Thank you for the review**

**Emo Naom: Oh it's not over yet! Not at all. Stay tuned for more. Thank you for the review.**

**ooOoo**

_Cause these are the days worth living, these are the years we're given. Cause these are the moments, these are the times, let's make the best out of our lives. And even if hope were shattered, I know it wouldn't matter, cause these are the moments, these are the times, let's make the best out of our lives._

_Our Lives- The Calling_

**ooOoo**

She'd taken up residence on the couch just outside the kitchen. Jamie had insisted that he would take the couch and that she should take the bed, but she'd told him that that was _his_ bed, and with Georgia so soon gone, it was not right for her to sleep there. When Georgia was cold in her grave and resting peacefully (a crude description but effective), _then_ she'd sleep in the same room as he. Until then, she'd sleep on the couch.

In fact, she quite enjoyed getting up early and mucking out stalls and milking cows, and she didn't mind helping to take care of Alexander. Being a toddler, he was still learning to go to the privy on his own, and more often than not she ended up changing a diaper and having to wash them by hand. What she wouldn't give for a disposable diaper at those points!

"Bridet?" Alexander caught her attention as she fastened a pin to the other side of his clout (she'd been picking up a few little Gaelic words and phrases from Jamie as they worked each day, and clout was one of them) and let him walk in front of her.

"Yes?"

"Where home?"

"Just up the road."

"No! You home."

"My home?" she sounded surprised. She actually hadn't thought about her home in quite a while. "You want to know where I came from?"

"Uh huh."

"Why?"

"Sound diff'rent."

"I sound different? Oh, you mean not like you and your dad."

"Uh huh."

"That's because I'm not Scottish."

"What Scottish?"

"That means you were born in Scotland and you live here now."

"Oh."

"I was not born in Scotland, so I am not Scottish. I was born in Canada."

"No!" the toddler sounded surprised.

"Yes I was."

"No!"

"Now you're just having me on, you wee rascal. What else do you want to know?"

"Far away. How you get here?"

She couldn't actually tell him the truth. Jamie knew how of course, but how do you explain the concept of time travel and a little man in a blue box traveling about time and space?

"Magic."

"Magic? You a witch?"

"No I'm not a witch," Bridget chuckled. "Sometimes magic is just a word to explain something that really doesn't make sense."

"Oh," he answered, slipping his tiny hand into hers. "I like you. You're pretty."

"That's very sweet of you."

He crooked his index finger at her in a beckoning motion. Bending down on her haunches, she smiled and asked him what he was looking for.

Without saying a word, he kissed her cheek, blushing ever so slightly.

"Not tell Daddy," he insisted.

"Okay, that's our secret," she beamed at him.

He smiled back and ran into the house into his father's arms. She smiled as she saw the two of them deep in conversation, and Jamie looking back at her.

"Aye, perhaps," Jamie set his son back on his own two feet and rubbed his hair. "Now, off you go. Stay out o' the barn. The horses are nay too happy right now, and Nancy's still a wee bit restless."

"Nancy?" she asked. Who was Nancy?

"Oatmeal's mum," Jamie clarified.

"Daddy?" Alexander interrupted.

"Aye?"

"Where my mum?"

He hadn't asked about Georgia in near enough three weeks. For a while she supposed he thought she'd gone on a trip somewhere, but neither Jamie nor she had imposed any false hope on him at all. He'd asked if Mummy was sleeping, and Jamie had said yes. However, with religion not being of such great importance in their household (though Jamie had said it was the life breath of so many other people in the Highlands), could he really tell Alexander that his mother had gone to Heaven to be with angels and not sound like a heathen?

He looked to Bridget, who smiled wearily and bent down to Alexander's level.

"Mummy was very sick, sweetheart," she explained for only the second time since she'd died. "And she went to Heaven."

"She come back?"

"No she can't come back," she told him as gently as she could. "When someone goes to Heaven they don't come back."

"Mummy no love me anymore?"

"Of course she does," Bridget insisted, still speaking in terms that he could easily understand. "Your mummy loves you very much, and if your mummy was lucky enough to _be_ your mummy, even if it was for a very short time, you can bet she loved you more than anyone else in the whole wide world."

"Really?" Alexander's eyes lit up.

"Absolutely," Bridget answered. "And your daddy loves you just as much," she insisted. "Your mummy and daddy are lucky to have you, and there's nothing Daddy wouldn't do to help you."

"You love me, Daddy?"

"Of course."

"Bring Mummy back?"

"I can't bring Mummy back, _mo cridhe_," he answered his son.

"Why?"

"Because when someone goes to Heaven, it's because God needs them back."

"I need Mummy too," Alexander insisted.

"I know," Bridget told him. "And it's okay to be sad that Mummy's not here."

"Not sad," he insisted once again. "I'm angry!"

"And it's okay to be angry too," Bridget told him. Deep down, she wished she'd had someone to say the same thing to her when her mother had died. Instead, she'd had to bottle her feelings and learn to live with it as it was. "When someone special dies sometimes we're angry."

"Why?"

"Because they're special."

"Why are we angry?"

"Because we miss them."

In response, the toddler kicked a leg out at her. "Not my mummy! Want my mummy!"

"You do not kick Bridget!" Jamie nearly roared. "If ye do that again you'll see yer bottom warmed for ye!"

Jamie's outburst had shocked the toddler, who promptly burst into tears, wrapping his pudgy arms around Bridget's neck and shying away from his father.

"You didn't need to yell at him, Jamie," Bridget stroked Alexander's head and sent him off to his room. "I know you're stressed with everything that's happened, and having me suddenly show up on your doorstep and there's everything piled on your shoulders at once, but he's a little boy. He doesn't know it's wrong."

"He damn well knows it's wrong," Jamie interjected. "If he dinna ken he wouldna try it, especially on you."

"A little kick to the leg is not enough to hurt me in any way, Jamie," she insisted.

"Aye, but when he tried it on his cousin, Georgia was horrified. No way she'd ever taught him anything o' the sort."

"Children and toddlers aren't born knowing right and wrong," she answered. "They bite and kick to see what kind of reaction they'll get."

"Aye, I know, and I also know that a good threat is a threat ye nae have to follow through wi'."

"I agree," she told him. "Now I'm going to ask you something, and please give me an honest answer."

"Aye, you deserve that much."

"Does my being here unnerve you?" she asked. "The last thing I want is to stress you out any further, but please tell me, am I hindering rather than helping you?"

"Nae, it doesna unnerve me at all," he told her, his teeth clenched.

Well _that_ was a lie if she'd ever heard one.

"Say that to me without clenched teeth and I know you're telling the truth."

He couldn't do it.

"That's what I thought," she got up and brushed at an invisible dirt smear on her skirt. "Well, I won't trouble you any longer. If you want me to go, I'll go."

**ooOoo**

What? She wanted to leave? Why? Where would she go? This was not 21st century Ottawa or wherever she came from, if she were found wandering around on her own she'd be either kidnapped or taken for an English spy. Even though she didn't sound English, during wartime there were any number of wild accusations that could arise. Taken for an English spy, she'd end up in prison or dead, and if you ended up in a Scottish prison you'd wish you were dead, and they'd not oblige you till they saw fit.

"Ye can't," his hand shot out and he grabbed her arm tight as he could.

"And why not?"

"Alexander needs you," he pleaded.

"Alexander needs me, or you need me, Jamie?" she challenged.

His eyes went wide.

"Don't look at me like that, I don't mean it in any sort of perverted manner. Do you need me to stay as a friend and confidant, or am I to be a live-in babysitter?"

She could swear she saw a pleading look in his eyes. He'd not been doing well on his own at all. He put on a strong, well- composed front for Alexander, but once the little boy had gone to sleep she had heard sobs coming from Jamie's bedroom. She'd get up off the couch and stand at the door, quietly willing herself to stay where she was, resisting the urge to open his door, pull him into her arms and rock him back to sleep. She knew he missed Georgia terribly, and three weeks was not enough time to get over someone. It took a full year, she knew, and they hadn't even reached a month yet.

She already knew the answer. He needed her just as much as Alexander, and although he'd never admit such a thing, she already knew she had no other option. She'd stay, but she'd not push anymore. It might be better if she just didn't say anything at all.

Truth be told she'd never expected this. She'd never expected Jamie to actually say he needed her. Not just that he wanted her. Well he'd never said out loud that he wanted her, and she knew he had, but she often wondered if he was sincere. How did she know that Georgia hadn't been his second choice?

Well, all choice aside, he'd married Georgia, not her. In any and all circumstances, no matter who you are, a standing cock is blind. One does not have to be thinking of the one they are in bed with in order to perform their marital duties.

She wanted to kick herself for such a thought. How could she ever think something so horrible?

And she often wondered about that question Jamie had posed to her just a few weeks before. In all honesty, to herself more than anyone, _would _she have stayed had Georgia not been sick and was alive and well?

No.

But under no circumstances would she ever let Jamie or Alexander know that.

Never.


	21. Dance with the Devil

**ninewood: Oh yes he does, he just has trouble admitting it, and he doesn't want to quite yet. Thank you for the review**

**Emo Naom: Georgia died from TB, which was untreatable in 1753. You were lucky if you died relatively painlessly, which, nine times out of ten, did not happen. Plenty more to come, stay tuned!**

**A/N: Posted as a thank you to ninewood for the enormous amount of help she gave me with material for a future chapter. You'll still get your usual chapter on Tuesday, but I was feeling generous. Enjoy, and feel free to leave a review, the door is always open.**

**ooOoo**

_Trembling, crawling across my skin, feeling your cold dead eyes, stealing the life of mine. I believe in you, I can show you that, I can see right through, all your empty lies. I won't stay long, in this world so wrong._

_Dance with the Devil- Breaking Benjamin_

**ooOoo**

For much longer than she ought, Bridget couldn't help but wonder about the Doctor. After all, he had left with hardly a word. But that was his way, he did not like long goodbyes. They always produced more questions than they did answers, and no one has the time for long lengthy sobbing goodbyes when it will do no good.

It was foolish to believe she'd ever hear anything more than the "you have a good heart, Bridget, and I know you'd never be able to leave when the man you love is in such dire straights" he'd left her with.

And now here she was, stuck in 1753 Scotland with Jamie, who was now a widower, and his young son. Although she knew it would be difficult to adjust to a life that was so different from what she'd grown up with, she hadn't expected it to be _this_ difficult. She'd been used to being able to wear whatever she wanted, be it a skirt or a pair of pants, but now she had to wear a dress lest she be compared to the whore of Babylon. She'd been financially independent and living on her own, but now with no money and no other way to support herself, she was dependant on Jamie. Damn the women's rights movement not coming in for another 200 years.

In any case, she still wondered about what the Doctor was doing. Was he still traveling alone, or had he found another lost soul to join him?

But was that an accurate description? Were all the people the Doctor picked up along the way lost and damaged? She certainly hoped not. How depressing would that be, to travel with someone who had enough emotional baggage to fell a draft horse?

Ah Doctor, if you could see us now, she mused. She wondered if he'd laugh at how silly they all looked. Now at 23 years old (nearly 24, her birthday had passed in the time she'd not been in the TARDIS), she was playing the role of friend, confidant, babysitter, and housekeeper. She had never known just how difficult it would be, to play all those roles and keep herself from going crazy, especially without many of the conveniences and technology she'd become accustomed to.

"Bridet?" Alexander climbed into her lap, breaking her concentration.

"Yes love?"

"How long you stay?"

"I don't know, sweetheart. However long your daddy needs me to."

"Good, cause I like you."

"Well that's good, because I like you too," Bridget stood up and balanced him on her hip. "Now should we go see Daddy? Where did Daddy go?"

"Barn," Alexander's speech and his ability to form a coherent sentence were improving day by day, although they'd had to start over on some phrases and correct certain behaviours. It was altogether too common that toddlers, in stressful situations, regressed. For example, Alexander had started demanding his dummy (which he hadn't wanted for more than 6 months previous, Jamie told her), and throwing tantrums you could hear the next house over, 4 miles down the road.

Georgia had been gone, as they put it, for about 7 months, and Alexander had begun to ask to see where she was. All the while explaining that she'd gone to Heaven, he still wanted to see her. They'd gone, tears had been shed, and after that, nothing. They now had life in general to contend with. They had a fall foal coming thanks to the stallion in the barn. Jamie's beloved mare, Calmen geal, whose name meant "White dove", was fast approaching her due date, and, as with all pregnant females, was irritable and grumpy. She'd actually asked Jamie if he'd need help birthing the foal, but he'd very sullenly asked that she keep Alexander out of the way, since a stall with a mare in labour was not a place for a young toddler.

Truth be told she thought they'd have more problems than the occasion bad mood or curse word thrown at each other, with Jamie being a Jacobite, or former Jacobite as was the case. Many of the Jacobites who had survived Culloden were still on the run, many had been caught, imprisoned, and hanged for treason. She couldn't bare to think of what would happen to any of them if there was still a warrant out on Jamie. Perhaps that was one of the things that kept him up at night.

After the evening's chores, supper, and Alexander's bedtime routine, Jamie and Bridget sat down together, this time in Jamie's bedroom. It still felt strange to her, being in the room Jamie had shared with Georgia. She'd struggled to tell him that she'd be just fine sleeping on the couch, but he'd insisted that she join him. After all, he just wanted to talk to her.

Reluctant at first, she'd agreed. She trusted Jamie with her life. He'd saved her on more than one occasion if she recalled correctly. Of course she'd talk to him, if that would help ease his mind.

They sat together in silence for quite some time, Jamie running his fingers through her hair.

"Why are you playing with my hair?"

"It's soft," he answered, brushing a strand from the side of her face and tucking it behind her ear.

"Jamie…"

"Bridget, I'm no gonna lie t' you," he had such a sad look in his eyes she couldn't look away. "I need you. So badly it hurts. I was a fool t' do what I did, and I canna apologize enough."

"That wasn't your fault."

"Aye, it was. I should nae have raised my hand to you."

Bridget placed her hand on Jamie's cheek. His hand over hers, his eyes closed at her touch.

"I missed that," he admitted.

"You had Georgia," Bridget answered. Regardless of what she'd just said, Jamie's eyes told a very different story. He'd had Georgia, yes, he'd married her, but she hadn't loved him. At least, that was the impression she got.

Slowly, and very softly, his lips touched hers.

She found herself unable to pull away. Instead of pushing him off and going back out to sleep on the couch, she pulled him closer.

There was nothing more that needed to be said that night.

**ooOoo**

The two of them awoke the next morning wrapped in nothing more than a thin sheet. Bridget turned over and stared right back at him.

"Good morning," she yawned and stretched.

He poked her nose in response. "We ought to get up."

"Yes we should, but will we?"

"Milking won't do itself, and I'll not have Alexander trying t' make his own breakfast. He tried once, and we were scrubbin' honey and oats out o' the floor for a week. He'll nae do it again till he's close t' five." Jamie threw the sheet back and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

Bridget blinked and sat up, her entire body screaming in protest. She couldn't quite remember what exactly they'd done the night before, but if the marks down Jamie's back and the warm stickiness between her thighs were any indication, no other explanation was needed. And strangely enough, she wanted nothing more than to grab him, pull him back into bed, and do it all over again. Hang the household for a few more hours.

In the seven months since she'd arrived, she'd never once been homesick. Well, once, but once in a seven month period was not a heinous crime at any rate, and even then it was only because she realized how much she missed Alex and Steph. She found herself very isolated, often with only Jamie, Alexander, and Oatmeal the cow for company. That wasn't to say that they didn't see other people from time to time. Cora would drop by with Ben and Maggie, and her husband, Gordon, had become great friends with Jamie.

Bridget could still remember the first time Cora had laid eyes on her since she'd been back. Her face had dropped in complete surprise, and rushed to hug her.

"I thought you gone," she insisted. "Where did you come from?"

"Do you remember the Doctor? The man Jamie and I traveled with?"

"Aye, wee bit strange, but nice enough. Why?"

"He left me here after Georgia died," Bridget explained. "Dragged me here practically kicking and screaming, and we were still here when she died."

Cora nodded. "Go on…"

"I was going to leave with the Doctor once the shock had subsided a little, but I couldn't stand the fact that Jamie and Alexander were going to have little to no help in adjusting to life without her."

"So he, the Doctor, I mean, abandoned ye?"

"No no not at all," she answered. "If anything he convinced me that, by all rights, I'd not be able to leave when they needed me so much, so I stayed."

"Was very nice of you."

"Nothing to do with nice, Cora. I like having someone to take care of. Since I had to get used to wearing skirts all the time, and doing without a washing machine, and sleeping on a couch when I'm used to a bed, I've not wanted to leave."

"I apologize in advance if I'm outta line, but what about your mum and dad?"

"My mum's dead," Bridget bit her lip. She'd not thought about her parents in the longest time, but aside from that one comment, she'd not say anymore, nor would she yell at Cora for asking. She was only curious after all.

"Sorry lassie," Cora turned to see Maggie chasing Alexander in a game of tag. "Has my brother been treating ye right?"

"As a friend and a guest, yes," she answered. "He makes sure I never want for anything. He's introduced me to everything I need to know, and he's the most respectful man I've ever known."

"That's good, cause you were the right girl for him."

"Oh not you too," Bridget groaned.

"What do you mean, not me too?"

"Everyone and his uncle seems to think Jamie was right for me, and me for him."

"Because it's true! Good God, you think Georgia was right for him?"

"You set them up!" Bridget resisted the urge to point an accusing finger at her.

"Yeah, I did, but I knew she dinna love him."

So her suspicion had been correct. Georgia really hadn't loved him, while he'd grown to love her. She'd made do with him. Perhaps she had known she didn't have his heart completely, and had only given him a son only to carry on the family name. Reminded her of her own family, somewhat.

Bridget's parents had only stayed together because of her. One of the things she could remember was her father lamenting that she hadn't been a boy. Well excuse her for living. Was he that stupid that he didn't realize that it was the sperm that decided the sex of the baby? Since the sperm came from the man, it was _his_ fault that she hadn't been born a boy. Well she wouldn't put it past him.

Still, if he hadn't married Georgia there'd not be Alexander running around yelling 'Canna catch me, Maggie!' And when she did, he delighted in shouting and laughing as loud as he could till she stopped tickling him.

As shocked as she'd been at Cora revealing what she'd always thought true, Bridget had done nothing about it. She'd not asked him anything about it, and had kept her distance. Once he was ready, she reasoned, he'd say something.

But what had happened the night before needed no further explanation. They'd danced around each other for the better part of seven or eight months, and it had driven them both crazy. Her nerves were still on fire, and this time, they did not have their rooms in the TARDIS to retreat to if things felt awkward. They would just have to look each other in the eyes and act like adults.

In the real world, pigs would fly before they'd be able to do that. But then again, in 1753, she'd have no choice but to make it work.

All she could do was hope they were doing the right thing.

But really, what was the right thing? How would Alexander react when he realized she was Jamie's lover? Would he start throw whining tantrums? Scream that she wasn't his mum so he didn't have to listen to her? Yell that he hated her and wanted her to leave?

She shook her head. The boy wasn't even three years old, how could he form such thoughts? Three- year- old boys were concerned with eating the last biscuit without getting caught, or playing in the dirt and eating bugs just to see what they tasted like. He couldn't care less who his father was sleeping with, so long as he had a place to sleep, a place to play, and food in his belly with plenty of love and affection.

She bit her lip, willing herself to believe it was true.


	22. It's Been Awhile

**ninewood: I think perhaps Cora forgot to ask, since she was worried that Jamie was doing right by Bridget. She might ask what a washing machine is later. Bridget's just overreacting concerning the whole 'What is Alex going to think? Oh my God what do we do?'. She's more calm and collected here. Thank you for the review (smiles)**

**Emo Naom: Very true, most three year olds that I've known are only concerned with that, as they should be. Thank you for the review**

**A/N: Tender Bridget/Alexander moment ahead! Tissues (should you need them), are available from the table in the corner. Also, you'll see a point of view change about halfway through the chapter, just warning you. Enjoy, and please feel free to leave a review, the door is always open **

**ooOoo**

_It's been awhile, since I could, since I could look at myself straight, and it's been awhile since I said I'm sorry. And it's been awhile, since I've seen the way, the candles light your face, and it's been awhile, but I can still remember just the way you taste_

_It's Been Awhile- Staind_

**ooOoo**

If she was being truthful, the thought of Jamie being captured and tried for treason was always in the back of her mind. If he _were_ captured, she and Alexander would be done for. They were not married, and as such, she did not and would not have any right to Jamie's property. If it were seized they'd all be out on their ears with nothing.

"Jamie?"

"Aye?"

"Tell me the truth…"

"Aye, always," he answered.

She took a deep breath. "Are you in trouble?"

"Trouble?" he shook his head. "What kind of trouble?"

"Is there a risk of you being captured?" she asked again. "You were a Jacobite. There are so many of them that are still on the run. Others are being held in filthy prisons and hanged for treason. What happens if they have a warrant out for you and you get caught?"

Jamie was dumbfounded. This had never been a problem before, and he'd not thought of Culloden for years. During that battle his laird had died from loss of blood, his best friend had been killed before Jamie had left with the Doctor, Ben, and Polly. Culloden and its potential aftermath had been the whole reason why he's agreed to travel with the Doctor in the first place. He'd not have lasted a day, let alone a few more months. After Alec had died, Cora had insisted Jamie stay at her home, never mentioning the fact that her brother could theoretically be hunted down and killed at any moment. In fact, they had had no problems from any English soldiers that had passed by over the years, which, by all intents and purposes, was odd. Why would they not be looking for him? His name had been synonymous with 'Jacobite pig' and 'Hang him till his innards lie at his feet!' all throughout Culloden, why would they ride right by him?

He'd lived for the thrill of battle, wholeheartedly believing that Prince Charlie was the true heir to the English throne, and he'd nearly died for it. Stupid, romanticized notions fed to him as a young man.

However, anxiety now came in the form of one Alexander Broderick William Cameron McCrimmon. What would happen to Alexander if he were captured? What Bridget was saying was absolutely true, but really, if nothing had happened for the past eight years, was there really any chance of anything happening now? Alexander liked Bridget, and a toddler had no knowledge of crimes committed past and present.

"I dinna ken."

"Well if you don't know, we'll have to figure that out, won't we? We can't just run the farm on its own till the day they come for you and Alexander and I are left with nothing. You're the laird! People pay you rent for the upkeep on their own homes. What happens if you're arrested and quite possibly killed?"

"This is nae gonna do anything, Bridget. I dinna understand why you're getting so upset over something that's probably not gonna happen."

"That's the operative word, Jamie, probably. Probably implies that there is a possibility, no matter how small, that you could be captured and hanged for crimes that never were crimes in the first place!"

"How do you ken that what I did was nae a crime?" he challenged.

"How can fighting for what you believe in be a crime? How can wanting a better future and doing whatever you can to get it be a crime?"

"You're kidding, right?" he snorted. "I killed people, Bridget. I tore families apart because I believe it was the right thing t' do. We were gonna win the war and Prince Charlie was gonna get on th' throne, and all would be well for us poor people who had nothin'. He was gonna make life better for us, better than what we had."

"How is this any better than what it was before?" she asked. "Was it worth it, Jamie? Was what happened eight years ago worth the piece you have to pay now?"

"I paid my dues in blood, Bridget," there was a flat tone to his voice.

"Whose blood, Jamie?" she challenged him again.

"I don't know. My laird's, my best friend's, my father's, mine… take your pick!"

Bridget drew in a deep breath and forced herself to swallow the full barrage of curse words that lingered at the back of her throat. "Look, can you at least promise me that we'll be able to sit down and figure out a plan?"

"You've not said anything about this before, Bridget. Why are ye so nervous all of a sudden?"

"Let me explain something to you, Jamie," Bridget sat down on the couch and closed her eyes to concentrate on what she was saying. "My entire life I've had to look over my shoulder. I never knew what was going to happen. What was my father going to do to me that day? Was he going to beat me because I came home from school late? Was he going to climb into my bed because my mother wasn't satisfying him? Was he going to threaten to kill me that night just to see me squirm?"

He came and sat down beside her, his arm around her shoulder.

"I needed to have a plan just to survive another day, and I always did. But now I'm in an unfamiliar place in dangerous times, and I'm just as vulnerable as you are, Jamie. Do you understand that because you were a Jacobite, you were in danger of being hanged? You probably still are. Please…" there were tears in her eyes for the first time in recent memory. "Don't leave this till it's too late. Don't wait till they arrest you, then it's too late to change anything."

"Okay, alright, calm down," he applied gentle pressure to her shoulder and guided her head to rest on his lap. "I'll nae let anything happen to ye, Bridget. You know that. You and Alexander are too important."

"I know we're important to you, Jamie, that's why I'm telling you this," she was sure he could feel her shaking. "I'm telling you all this, including that bit about my father because I love you, Jamie. Don't you understand that?"

He was now staring at her, as though he couldn't believe what she'd actually said.

"What?"

"I love you, James Robert McCrimmon," she sat up and looked him in the face. She laid a hand on his cheek, stroking her thumb across the slightly weathered flesh. "I regretted every single day that I wasn't with you and the Doctor. As soon as I walked away from the TARDIS I was fighting the urge to run back."

He blinked stupidly.

"I swear to God it's like talking to a retarded monkey," she laughed. "Hello, is anyone in there?"

"I've nae met any retarded monkeys. Have you?"

"Yeah, his name is Dad," she chuckled again. "But you're not a retarded monkey. I've said it once and I'll say it again, Jamie. I love you…"

He kissed her then.

**ooOoo**

Alexander walked along the fence, bumping a stick against the posts. It make a cool sound, but it wasn't loud enough. Loud noises were fun! It was very quiet all the time, almost like Daddy and Bridget had said there was no shouting allowed.

But the men who looked after the horses shouted all the time! They shouted at each other, they shouted at Daddy, they even shouted at him, even when he wasn't doing anything wrong! He had told Daddy that the men in the barn shouted at him, but he didn't listen. All he said was that he needed to listen to older people, and do what he was told. It wasn't _fair_!

So he climbed over the fence and into the horse paddock (that's what Daddy called it, he remembered. Daddy said he had a good memory). The horses were all out grazing (he didn't know why Daddy and the other men say grazing. It just looks like they were eating), and it was too quiet. What kind of noise could he make?

Just then the horses came running toward him. He held out his hand in front of him and yelled at them to STOP! But they didn't listen. They just ran and ran and ran, knocking him over and stepping on his fingers.

He screamed, covered in mud and unable to move, until one of the men in the barn come out and picked him up.

"Want Daddy!" he shouted, snot running down from his nose and his fingers hurting.

"Aye laddie, we'll get ye to yer Da," a voice told him. He sounded like he'd eaten rocks.

"What's yer name?" Alexander asked, trying to catch his breath as the strange man who was carrying him tore a piece of his shirt and held it to his nose, wiping it quickly.

"Harry," the man answered. "Yer Da's in the house, young Alex, and his young harlot too."

He saw Bridget appear in the doorway, her mouth slightly open in shock. He saw her turn around and yell for his Daddy to come quickly.

"Good God, what happened?" he heard his Daddy ask.

"Warble fly," was all Harry had to say in explanation. "And yon wee Alex was caught in the middle."

"Was he in the paddock?" Jamie asked as Bridget lifted the youngster on to the table and stripped off his soiled shirt.

"Aye, dinna ken why, but poor kid's pretty banged up. Naught broken though; except his fingers."

Jamie nodded. What was he thinking? He had a whole bunch of trees to climb and rocks to throw around, what would he be doing in the horse paddock? He'd told the boy hundreds of times how dangerous it was to go into the paddock without an adult. But he was a toddler, and do they listen? Nope, not unless you ply them with food.

Jamie pinched the bridge of his nose, thankful that Alexander had only broken his fingers. If he'd not been so small, it'd have been much worse.

**ooOoo**

Bridget tore a piece of her dress and dipped it in the sink, soaking it and pressing it to Alexander's hand. He was still whimpering, but had stopped howling. Whatever had happened to cause that stampede, she knew it wasn't Alexander's fault.

"Hurts," he told her for the millionth time that hour.

"Yeah I know it hurts, love," she brushed his hair from his eyes. "What happened?"

"Too fast!" he answered.

"Did you try to jump out of the way?"

He shook his head no.

"Why not?"

"Too scared," he said again. "Ow! No touch fingers!"

"I know your fingers hurt, baby, but they're broken. If I don't see how bad it is I can't fix it."

"Bridet fix fingers?"

"I'm going to try," she promised him. Wrapping the fingers in cold compresses, she called to Jamie, asking him to quickly whittle some small sticks bare, and perhaps her some clean linens that weren't going to be used again. If she could splint the fingers and make sure he didn't move them, they'd heal in a couple of weeks. Thankfully, his bones were still small and would heal easily (she hoped at any rate).

With Alexander's fingers set, she stripped him out of the rest of his mud caked clothing, wrestled him into a bath, and got him into fresh clothes. With a kiss on the forehead, and a cuddle in her lap, Bridget carried him out to the kitchen and got him a piece of bread. Liberally spreading it with honey, she watched him eat it as though she'd take it from him, and smiled.

"You were very brave, Alexander. Thank you for sitting so nicely."

"Welcome," he muttered around the bread and honey. "Feel better."

"Good, bread and honey usually helps," Bridget went and kissed his head again. "Now, you cannot go into the paddock without Daddy, or me, or someone else that is big enough to know how to walk around the horses. Okay?"

He stared at her as though she'd turned green.

"Alexander?"

"Yes?"

"No paddock without Daddy or someone big enough, alright?"

"Okay Mummy," he agreed.

"Good, now finish your bread and go see if Daddy needs help carrying the wood, alright? Maybe he'll let you carry a few sticks."

He gobbled the bread and bounded out the door, laughing and smiling.

She pinched the bridge of her nose, squeezing her eyes shut, and snapping her head back up in realization.

He'd just called her Mummy!


	23. Innocent

**ninewood: I thought about making it more but I couldn't be so mean to the poor kid, he's just a baby! Bridget's very loud and opinionated, which is exactly what Jamie needs to compliment his own personality (can you imagine him with a wife who says nothing unless she's spoken to first? I certainly can't). Thank you so much for your help and the review.**

**Emo Naom: Yes, awww! He called her Mummy! Let joy be uncontained. Thank you for the review**

**HeadDownHeartUp: I'm so glad you enjoy it so much! I have a lot of fun writing it. Thank you for the review, it's always nice to see a new reviewer.**

**A/N: This chapter contains a teeny tiny bit of adult content. Oh, and the passage from 'The World of Pooh' by A.A. Milne and any such references to Pooh Bear and Christopher Robin do not belong to me, I only borrowed it for the sake of this chapter. Enjoy, and feel free to leave a review, the door is always open**

**ooOoo**

_Truth hurts or so they say but a fool dies a thousand ways, and I, know the blinding charm of the way you make things seem. But alarms are ringing, and I'm wide awake in your land of dreams. How long did you think you could hide it, how far did you think I'd go? Now that I know exactly what you know… you say you're innocent, but you're not so innocent. You're not so innocent_

_Innocent- Lawrence Gowan_

**ooOoo**

The Doctor fiddled with the controls, wondering what Jamie and Bridget were up to. While he was lonely, he recognized that Jamie needed Bridget more than he did. He could travel alone for a while, all his friends and the relationships he'd formed were still always on his mind. Bridget had been right in saying that it was not a good idea for him to travel alone.

His companions were the ones who kept him in check, stopped him if he got too carried away (though he admittedly wasn't prone to that sot of behaviour), and in general stopped him for giving himself earache from talking to himself (really you can only talk to yourself so much before running out of things to say). It had been well over seven months since Bridget had decided to stay with Jamie, and he'd been alone since then.

Thankfully he'd not gone and done something stupid. He'd been traveling around, staying in one place for less than an hour before becoming exceedingly bored and then flying off again.

He didn't regret his decision to leave Gallifrey, he didn't regret the decision he'd made in leaving Susan on Earth with David, because she'd never have left if he hadn't pushed her out the doors, he didn't regret allowing Ben and Polly to stay, and he certainly didn't regret taking Jamie on as a companion and friend either. Jamie had been fascinated at first, he'd never seen electric lights or a hot water tap, and once he'd explained that a toilet worked as a privy did, you just had a handle to get rid of the waste, so as to not leave a long lasting smell, they'd had no problems with public toilets either.

But when they'd met Bridget, everything had changed.

The poor girl was not in good shape, and he'd seen that right away. Without even speaking to her, he'd seen that she'd suffered years of abuse just by the lines on her face. And she had only just begun to let herself heal. When he'd explained to Jamie that she had ample cause to be angry, he hadn't questioned it. But when they'd found her by the side of the road covered in dirt and crying, he'd known they had no other choice but to help her.

When they'd brought her aboard the TARDIS he'd never expected that she and Jamie would fall for each other, and so quickly! He didn't mind it, of course, but what else could he do about it? And when she insisted that she needed to stay in order to help Jamie, he knew it would do no good to beg her to stay.

Now he almost wished he had. No matter how much he insisted he was perfectly content to be traveling alone, the fact of the matter was that he was lonely.

Doomed to travel alone, as always.

**ooOoo**

"Jamie, did you hear that?" she asked when he'd finished with the wood and had sent Alexander to help the scullery maid, Elaine, with preparing the lunch.

"Hear what?"

"What Alexander said to me just before I sent him outside to you."

"Seeing as I wasna in the house and was too far out t' hear anything, no I dinna. What did he say?"

She swallowed. "He called me Mummy."

Jamie's eyes went wide. "Why would he call ye Mummy?"

"I have no idea," she insisted. "Every other time he's always called me Bridget. I have no idea why he would suddenly decide to call me mum." She took a deep breath. "I just hope you're not upset by that. I figure I'd tell you if he hadn't already."

"I'm no upset, Bridget. I was gonna say that it's about high time he called you something other than Bridget all the time," he wrapped her in a tight hug. "As much as Georgia loved 'im, she was nae the maternal type. She didna hug him or clean 'im up when he was hurt or rock 'im to sleep when he was having nightmares. You did all o' that an' then some," he tilted his head toward him so that she was looking him in the face. "You're more his mother than she ever was, Bridget, and I canna thank ye enough for it."

She felt her lip quivering, and a tiny tear slipped down her cheek.

"That's the first I've seen ye cry," he wiped the tear from her cheek with his thumb, and kissed where it had left a streak.

"I'm not crying," she chuckled, trying to get her breath. "It's just… I'm really happy."

"Good," he kissed her other cheek, then her forehead, and finally captured her lips. Pulling away, he gave her a smile. "I think we can leave our son with Elaine for a little while longer."

"I agree."

With that, he picked her up and carried her to the bedroom, shutting the door with his hip.

**ooOoo**

Bliss.

There was no other way to describe it. Lying wrapped in his arms with her head resting on his chest was quickly becoming her favourite way of spending a lazy fall afternoon.

Of course there were other ways of spending a lazy fall afternoon, her favourites of which all involved the bedroom.

On their fourth encounter that afternoon, she arched off the bed and cried out into his shoulder, still shaking as he set her carefully back on the mattress.

"Wait… wait…" she begged as he moved again. She gripped his shoulder and pulled him down toward her, their foreheads touching. "Come with me, Jamie. Come on…" she urged him, trying to pull him closer. "Now!" she demanded.

He let out a roar and collapsed on top of her, his breathing quick and shallow.

"My God…" she managed, her legs like jelly.

Jamie turned his head and kissed her temple, shining with sweat. "That's my girl…" he praised her.

She kissed him hard, opening her mouth to let his tongue explore.

"Eight months of wanting and doing nothing about it finally paid off, didn't it?" she laughed, pushing her hips up against his.

"Dinna tempt me, woman," he groaned in protest. "Do that once more and I might just take ye again, and none too gentle either."

"Who said I wanted you to be gentle, hmm?" the repeated the same action once again.

"Och, I dinna have the strength a fifth time round," he moaned, rolling off of her and on to the mattress. "Yer very soft but not so great a pillow, my _duine álainn_," he flicked her nose. "I'd rather hold ye close and feel yer heartbeat."

She shifted, smiled, and planted a kiss just above his left nipple, where his heart was.

**ooOoo**

They got up later (the sun had gone down about an hour before) to find Alexander already fed, bathed, and sitting at the table in his nightclothes with a spinning top for company.

"Lookit, Daddy, lookit!"

"Aye, I see it," he answered. "Who gave you a spinning top?"

"Laine."

"Elaine did? Did ye say thank ye?"

The boy nodded.

"Good," he raffled Alexander's hair in response. "Have ye not had yer supper then?"

"He had everything under th' sun, he did," Elaine came in carrying the wash that had been hung to dry all afternoon. "I'm surprised the lad can still walk with the food in his belly."

"So there's no need for me to fix anything else then?" Bridget asked. "I'm not very hungry myself but I thought I should ask."

"Please yourself," Elaine sat down on the couch where Bridget had slept and set to folding the sheets and other clothing that had been hanging. "Lord, how I hate laundry. Only once a week my Aunt Fanny."

Bridget's ears burned at the familiarity of the saying. She couldn't count how many times her mother had said the same thing when she'd been stressed or just completely exhausted.

She was still muttering when Jamie and Bridget sat down with Alexander at the table. Distracted by the spinning top, he didn't notice the look on Jamie's face until he looked up and stopping playing.

"I be bad, Daddy?"

"No not at all," he answered. "But I wanted to ask you something."

The little boy nodded.

"Who's this?" he placed his hand over Bridget's resting on the table.

Alexander shrugged. "Is Mummy," he answered simply. "I like Mummy."

"I'm glad you like Mummy," Bridget interjected. "Because I like you too."

"You do?"

"Of course I do, you silly boy," Bridget got up and bent down by his chair so her eyes were level with his. "I like you very much, and because of that you're stuck with me."

He gave her a confused look, lifting his hand to see how he'd be stuck with her. "But I'm not stuck! Look!" He jumped off the chair and stretched his arms out to the side. "See Mummy? Not stuck!"

Both Jamie and Bridget chuckled. "No sweetheart, what I mean is I'm never going to leave you or Daddy. I love you two too much."

Alexander gave her a huge, toothy grin and flung his arms around her neck.

Over his shoulder, she grinned at Jamie, who seemed in shock.

"Now come on, honey, it's almost bedtime." She held Alexander close and forced herself up, carrying him toward his bedroom. As they left she could hear Jamie let out the breath he'd been holding throughout the entire exchange.

She pulled back the blanket and laid him down, making sure to tuck him in tight (but not too tight, Alexander insisted). She pulled a chair up beside the bed and smoothed his hair, hoping the action would help him to sleep.

"Story?" he murmured.

"You'd like me to read you a bedtime story?" she repeated as he nodded. "Okay, what books do you have?"

He pointed to the bookshelf above his head. Bridget craned her neck and saw the Bible, and a book about the saints, but nothing that a nearly three year old would really want to read. It was fair to say that the Brothers Grimm fairy tales hadn't been written yet, and no way was there any sign of the Mother Goose nursery rhymes… but…

"I've got a different book hidden in my backpack, Alexander. Hold on…"

She made her way back to where she'd stashed her backpack and pulled out an old book that, for some reason, she'd always kept with her. A pocket-sized version of "The World of Pooh" by A.A. Milne. It was one of the first books she'd ever read on her own, and her mother had celebrated for days.

"What's that one, Mummy?" he asked as she sat down again.

"It's a book about a young boy named Christopher Robin and his best friend Winnie the Pooh, or Pooh Bear for short."

"A bear?" he drew the covers up over his head. "He's gonna eat me!"

"No he won't, sweetheart," she pulled the blanket back and gave him a reassuring smile. "Pooh Bear doesn't eat little boys. He eats honey out of a honey pot."

"Oh…" he breathed. "Is he a nice bear?"

"He's a very nice bear," she assured him. "He's Christopher Robin's best friend, and they have other friends too. There's Piglet, and Rabbit, and Owl, and Tigger, and other friends, but that's a very long list. Would you like me to read you the first page and you tell me if you like it?"

Alexander nodded.

"Okay," she opened the book and held it out so he could see the illustrations. "_Here is Edward Bear, coming downstairs now, bump, bump, bump, on the back of his head, behind Christopher Robin. It is, as far as he knows, the only way of coming downstairs, but sometimes he feels that there really is another way, if only he could stop bumping for a moment and think of it. And then he feels that perhaps there isn't. Anyhow, here he is at the bottom, and ready to be introduced to you. Winnie-the-Pooh…_"

Alexander lay there fascinated, prompting Bridget to go on until the end of the first chapter, which ended as "_He nodded and went out, and in a moment I heard Winnie-the-Pooh- bump, bump, bump- going up the stairs behind him_."

"Time for sleep, sweetheart," he folded the edge of the page over to mark their place, and set it on his night table. She bent over and gave him a hug before turning to go out the door.

"Read more tomorrow?"

"Yes I'll read more tomorrow," she closed the door and encountered Jamie at the end of the hallway.

"You're a right wonderful lady t' read t' him like that."

"Most children like a bedtime story before going to sleep. I know I did."

"Aye, I ken that much," he wrapped her in a tight hug once again. "If you're this good with a child ye dinna give birth t', imagine what ye'll be like when ye have one o' yer own."

"Alexander _is_ my own, Jamie," she insisted, spreading open his shirt and kissing his bare chest. She could smell the sweat and wind and dirt on him from the day's work. "Like the Doctor said when we were on Axapta, blood and biology does not determine family." She slipped his shirt off over his shoulders, and ran her fingers down his chest, her fingertips barely touching the nipples.

He groaned.

"Ye canna have just said ye wanted me t' take ye to bed," he ground out.

"Oh but I do," she grinned and stuck a hand down into his breeches. "The household's shut down for the night and our son is asleep…" she reached for him further, teasing him lightly. "You know as well as I do what's happening under your breeches. And the question is, what are _you_ going to do about it?"

His baser instincts took over, and he crushed her lips to his in a brutal assault that made her weak in the knees. They made their way to the bedroom and nearly slammed the door behind them.


	24. Even Angels Fall

**ninewood: If you liked how naughty Jamie was in the last chapter, just wait till you read THIS one. Thank you for the review**

**Emo Naom: I love Winnie the Pooh too. I thought it would be a nice bonding experience for Bridget and Alex to read something simple and classic (for Bridget's timeline anyway). Thank you for the review**

**A/N: This chapter contains scenes of a sexual nature, nudity, course language and some tough stuff. You have been warned. And please feel free to leave a review, the door is always open.**

**ooOoo**

_You found hope, you found faith, found how fast she could take it away. Found true love, lost your heart, now you don't know who you are. She made it easy, made it free, made you hurt till you couldn't see. Sometimes it stops, sometimes it flows, but baby, that is how love goes. You will fly and you will crawl, God knows even angels fall. No such thing as you've lost it all, God knows even angels fall._

_Even Angels Fall- Jessica Riddle_

**ooOoo**

Waking up the next morning felt almost obscene. How could anyone expect to walk after a night like the one they'd had? Her entire body felt like jelly, and to try to walk would only result in her landing on the floor.

"I don't want to get up this morning, Jamie. Must we?"

"Well if we want t' eat today…"

"Not really," she rolled over on top of her and pinned him to the mattress. "I'd rather stay in bed all day, and hang the household for once."

"I'd like nothing better," he grinned and kissed her quickly. "Might do on honeymoon though, rather than now."

She stopped, mouth open. "What?" she rolled off of him and on to her side. "What did you say?"

"Remember how ye asked me t' make a plan, just in case?"

"In case you got arrested? Yeah I remember," she blinked. "What about it?"

"Things are different where yer from, aye? Ye no have t' marry t' have claim on someone's property?"

"Right, but you have to be together at least 5 years to qualify."

"Ah, see, here it's no like tha'. Right now, if the English barged in here and arrested me, this place would nae go t' you, and you'd be left nothin'."

"So what are you suggesting?"

"Well, if ye were t' marry me, not only is the land protected, but both you and wee Alex are safe."

She smiled. "How do I know this isn't just an elaborate scheme to get out of having to confess having sex outside of marriage?"

"Because I love ye, Bridget. Besides, I've been absolved of said sin," he smirked, kissing her nose.

"Have you? Because I've not seen you go to a priest, and as much as I like to think I'm of the Holy Order, I am not," she giggled.

"I went more times than there are days in the week before ye came back," he admitted. "Apparently I had the mark o' shame because I was nae a virgin on my wedding night, and Georgia would nae hear o' me parading around the fact."

"Not that you would," suddenly Georgia was sounding more and more like a spiteful bitch than a woman willing to carry Jamie's child and make a home with him. "I know you, Jamie. Well enough to know you're not one to tell salacious tales about your past experiences."

"Thank ye," he nodded, sitting up and resting his back against the headboard. "Now, I'm bein' serious, Bridget. Not only for protection but because I love ye, would ye marry me?"

Her mouth dropped open.

"Do ye want me t' get on my knees, Bridget? What else can I do?"

She smiled, shaking her head slightly. "No, I'll not have you on your knees in your own house." She took a deep breath and cupped his face. "Yes, Jamie McCrimmon. Yes, I will be your wife."

He kissed her hard. Not a brutal assault, but more a firm, jovial kiss. Rolling together on the bed, they laughed. It was a nervous laugh at first, followed by more kisses and intensified laughter once again.

Jamie then landed on the floor with a THUMP, causing Bridget to curl into a ball, shaking with a deep belly laugh and reverberated throughout the house. So far it had not caused much commotion, but if they kept this up, they'd wake the house.

"Do ye still not want t' get up?" she got up and settled himself back on the bed.

"Of course not," she caught her breath. "I want to stay in bed with you all day and have you fuck me senseless. That's what I want," she pulled him on top of her and pushed his hips forward. Grabbing his hand, she guided him to the cleft between her legs.

"Good Lord…" he whispered.

"Send Alexander to Cora for the day and have someone else look after the house and farm today," she reached up and bit his lip.

"You're gonna kill me, woman," he breathed, laying his head on her bare chest.

"Then you'll die a happy man."

**ooOoo**

Jamie had dropped Alexander off with Cora, asking if she would look after him for the day, and if she were so willing, for the night as well. He needed a break for a night, and also so the young boy could have some time to play with either Ben or Maggie. But with Ben being fifteen, he was often off with Gordon sharpening his tracking skills and tending the animals, as well as preparing to go off to study to become a priest. Maggie, on the other hand, was now thirteen, but had no qualms about spending a day with her young cousin.

Upon arriving home, Jamie had gathered the household and explained that should they need anything, it could wait till the next day. For today he did not want to be disturbed.

He returned to Bridget's bed, locking the door behind him. They spent the majority of the day curled under the blanket, speaking in hushed tones about past experiences, their time with the Doctor, and what they thought of the future. Every so often Bridget's hand would travel to her breast, teasing her areole, and enjoying the feel of the nipple straining against the confines of the sheet.

"Enjoying yourself?" Jamie asked, one hand slipping down between her legs.

"I'd enjoy myself a lot more if your tongue replaced my fingers," she answered, shifting her hips so his fingers could enter her. "Mmm… that's nice…" she groaned.

She saw the blatant smile on his face as his fingers moved faster. Her eyes rolled back as she arched off the bed. She let out a screech as Jamie pulled away, yearning for his touch still.

"Shh, _duine álainn, _shhh…" he whispered, kissing her temple. "The house will hear ye."

"Hang the household and everyone in it!" she gasped. Rolling over, she kissed Jamie's chest, running her tongue over his the exposed skin and gently nipping with her teeth. Reaching down, she could feel his arousal, and, grinning, worked her fingers furiously.

He groaned, trying to keep himself from losing control. In order to do so, and perhaps to tease Bridget just enough to see her suffer a bit, he rolled himself away and out of the bed, stepping toward the wall.

She slapped the side of the bed Jamie had occupied and flung the blanket back, exposing her body to the chilly October air.

"No no, you are _not_ getting away that easily. _Come here!"_ she demanded.

Waiting for his response, she got up to her knees and took a few seconds to drink in the sight of him. Grinning, she slid her hand down between her legs, no longer embarrassed about how he might think about such a sight.

He didn't need to be told twice. He made his way toward the bed and stayed her hand. Bringing her hand up so that it rested over his heart, he leaned forward and kissed her slowly. Readjusting their position so that they lay comfortably, he sheathed himself to the root and reveled in the way she cried out.

Her legs hooked around his hips, seeking to bring him closer. She no longer cared whether he was being gentle, and frankly, she didn't want him to be.

"I mean t' use ye, _duine álainn,_" he ground out, pumping his hips.

"Hard as you can, Jamie," she breathed, moaning at the invasion between her legs. "Come on…"

Whatever she said seemed to make him lose control a little bit at a time.

"Don't hold back," she cried, arching her back and screaming as the first orgasm took her. He did not move, instead roared at the feeling of Bridget tightening around him.

He gave her no rest, alternating between slow and steady and hard and fast. She squealed, not bothering to keep quiet. She couldn't, with the way he held her to the mattress. She'd never known pleasure this intense, and sought to keep Jamie there for as long as was humanly possible.

She pulled him closer, pushing her heels into his back.

That was it. She felt Jamie movie within her, buck, and empty himself inside her with an anguished but satisfied cry. Spent and shaking, he managed to kiss her softly once, and lay his head on her chest.

She knew very little Gaelic, but 'I love you' is easily distinguishable in any language.

She bent and kissed the top of his head in response.

"I love you too," she whispered back, falling asleep with Jamie on top of her.

**ooOoo**

This time she really couldn't move. When Cora brought Alexander home the next morning, she noticed Bridget was having trouble walking. Any woman who had had children or a wild night knew that gait.

Shooing Alexander inside and away from the two of them, Cora and Bridget sat down at the table, Bridget sitting on a pillow.

"What the hell did he do to you last night? Split ye in half?"

"Feels like it," she answered.

"Did ye no tell him t' stop?"

"Of course not. I wanted it that rough," Bridget answered, smiling. "I know you probably don't want to hear it, Cora, but it was the best I've had in a while."

"So you were nae virgin?"

"Absolutely not, haven't been since I was thirteen years old."

Cora blanched. "How'd you lose your maidenhead at thirteen years old? Ye were nae experimenting that early?"

"No, it was rape," Bridget answered simply.

"Did ye know who did it?"

"Yep," Bridget popped the 'p'. "It was my father's best friend at the time. And then afterward it was my father."

Cora was flabbergasted that Bridget wasn't still broken up about such a thing. "Ye dinna sound very upset about it."

"What's the point?" Bridget smoothed her skirt. "I can't very well go back and change it. I wouldn't be who I am if none of it had happened. There's no point in being bitter because feeling that way won't change anything. When I moved away I knew exactly what I was doing. Not only to get away from the abuse but to see exactly what I was capable of on my own."

"So, if ye don't mind me askin', just how many men have ye slept with?"

Bridget chewed the inside of her cheek in thought. "Ten to fifteen I think. Most of them was just the once."

Cora's eyebrow shot to her hairline. "Does Jamie know that?"

"Yes he does, and he's not bothered by it," Bridget assured the woman sitting across from her with a blank stare on her face. "Who I slept with before I came here is none of his business, and he's said so himself. He doesn't care who I've been with before, so long as I'm faithful to him now."

"Are ye?"

"Yes," she insisted. "Call me a pox-ridden whore if you must, Cora, I don't mind, but I will not apologize for loving your brother as he is."

Cora shook her head. "No, I'll not say such things about ye, Bridget. I can see you make my brother happy, and anyone who can bring a smile to 'is face after seven years of torture and loneliness, ye have my blessing."

Bridget nodded, and that was all that needed to be said on the matter.

"He asked me to marry him," she admitted.

To her surprise, Cora broke into a huge smile.

"About damn time too," she breathed. "I kept telling him that if he wanted t' keep you, he better act fast."

"Why?"

"Bridget, darling, let's face it. You've been here nearly eight months now. News travels fast in these parts, gossip especially."

"What's been said, then?"

"That's you've played the whore."

"To whom?"

"My brother, among any other manner of men as well."

"Ooh, look how perceptive they are! Let's give them all a prize!" Bridget rolled her eyes.

Cora's brow arched.

"As I'm sure you can tell, Cora, I really don't care. I know I'm, for all intents and purposes and for lack of a better word, a whore."

"You said it, not me."

"Yes I know," she answered. "There's not much I can do about it, though. It is what it is."

"Aye, I ken that much," Cora answered. "But you've nae heard the stories that come back t' me after a day in the field."

It was Bridget's brow that arched this time. "What sort of stories?"

"All about how yer a whore because they can all hear ye screaming during sex, and no respectable lady does such a thing."

"They're all uptight because we're having loud sex? Geez! You don't expect me to believe all their wives and partners keep quiet, do you?"

"Aye, and Gordon and Jamie have both had to beat a few people for insulting yer honour, saying there was no way ye was virgin when ye came to stay with Jamie, no wonder you've got him by the balls and other such things."

"I don't have your brother by the balls, Cora. I could, believe me, I could, but I don't."

"And how do I know that?"

"Well he's not here now, is he? I don't keep him chained to my bed to use when I feel like it."

"Ye've a filthy mind, Bridget Grey."

"Yep," she smiled. "I don't care that other people think me a whore. Jamie and I come home to each other at the end of the day, and that's what matters."

Cora nodded. "I agree wi' ye."

"However, if this continues, I am not above going out there tomorrow and kicking them in the teeth."

"Kissing Jamie right in front o' them and then twisting their ballocks off might be more effective."

"Didn't think of that. Might have to try it."

The two of them laughed wholeheartedly, whatever suspicion that had been there had now disappeared, and that was all they needed from each other.

Bridget could now count Cora Chisholm, nee McCrimmon, as a friend and ally.

One down, several dozen to go.


	25. This Train Don't Stop There Anymore

**ninewood: She might as well be honest with Cora, she's due to marry Jamie after all. And if she weren't, Cora would find out anyway. Better to hear it straight from the horse's mouth, so to speak. I love writing naughty Jamie and Bridget, it's fun. Thank you for the review**

**Naomi: I always said I would warn you if the chapter moved up into M. I hope you'll like this one, it's back to a T rating now. Thank you for the review.**

**A/N: Updated today as a birthday gift for ninewood! Happy birthday, my friend! Enjoy your day. Oh, there's a little mention of inappropriate goings on, but it's essential to the story, and I've tried to keep it tasteful. And to those who lurk, feel free to leave a review, the door is always open.**

**ooOoo**

_You may not believe it, but I don't believe in miracles anymore. When I think about it, I don't believe I ever did for sure. All the things I've said in songs, all the purple prose you bought from me. Reality's just black and white, the sentimental things I write, never meant that much to me._

_This Train Don't Stop There Anymore- Elton John_

**ooOoo**

Once Cora had gone home and Jamie had come in from the field, Bridget set to work. If what Cora was saying were true, she'd get up first thing the next morning and kick their teeth in. While she had no problem admitting she wasn't what anyone would think of as a suitable match for Jamie as Laird, she certainly objected to people speaking about her behind her back. If they wished to say such things, they should at least have the courtesy to say it to her face. These were grown men that were speaking about her this way, you'd think they'd have a little more tact!

"Jamie, is it true?"

"Is what true?"

"What they're saying about me."

"What have ye heard?"

Bridget ran her hand down her face. "I feel like I'm fifteen years old again," she took a deep breath. "That some have been calling me whore and other such unpleasant things."

He said nothing.

"And you've been having to fight in order to defend my honour," she continued.

The only thing he could do was tell her the truth. Yes, he'd had to fight, and yes he'd had to defend her honour, but never would he allow someone to speak about her without serious consequences.

"Look, the next time that happens, just tell them they should come and say that to my face. If they really want to know just so their wives can determine whether I'm a threat or not, then I'll be honest. If they're saying it to cause trouble, then I shall most definitely find cause to kick their teeth in."

"I'll not be lettin' ye do such a thing, Bridget," he insisted.

"Call me a whore, fine, but not behind my back."

"Aye, I know yer not happy about that, _duine álainn, _but it'll do you no good to go kicking people in teeth, no matter if they deserve it."

"Explain to me why."

"Because you're my responsibility, same as they are."

"Is there nothing you can do about it?" she asked. "I'm to be your wife, Jamie. If I were already you'd stop at nothing to go down there and be ready to draw blood! Instead you're standing here telling me I can't do the same! And _don't_ tell me I'm being unreasonable because I'm not!"

"Relax, Bridget, just calm down," he put his hands on her shoulders. "We'll fix this."

"Fix this? How are we going to fix it?"

"Well, I remember when we were livin' in the TARDIS, ye used to punch something or throw scissors and darts at pictures on the wall. Since we have none o' that stuff here, would it do t' hit me?"

She couldn't believe her ears. "Pardon?"

"It hurts me t' see ye so upset, _duine álainn,_ and I want t' take that burden from ye, if only for a minute or so."

"No…" she insisted. "No I can't do that, Jamie. I don't want to chance upsetting Alexander if he happens to walk in and sees me hitting his daddy."

"Then what can I do, Bridget?"

"There's nothing you can do, Jamie," she bit her lip, trying to stop herself from crying.

"Come on, my love," he pulled her to him and wrapped his arms around her.

Settled comfortably against his chest, she sobbed, clutching at his shirt, if only to keep herself anchored to something real.

"I've never done anything to intentionally hurt anyone," she managed. "Your men and workers don't know me! What did I do to them to deserve the title of whore?"

For the risk of sounding tactless, he said nothing. He waited until she'd cried herself out, but still held her close.

"I understand that I was nae yer first, Bridget, but I do not believe you to be a whore. You gave yourself to other people out of need, not for money."

"Money or not…" she could barely speak.

"Money or not I still love you," he insisted. "Money or not you're to be my wife. Money or not I nae want ye t' believe you're not worth anything, because you are."

She took a deep breath. "I don't know what to do."

"You dinna need t' have all the answers," Jamie told her.

"I know, but…" she burrowed further into the inviting warmth of his chest, still not willing to separate from him. "I'm scared…" she admitted.

"Scared?"

"Because you love me for me, Jamie. I've never had that before, and it's absolutely terrifying." Her shoulders were shaking now. "How do I know I'm still good enough?"

"Look," he kissed her forehead. "You are nae a bad person."

"I wish I could believe you."

"Why don't ye believe me?"

"Because I deserved everything that ever happened to me. It was my fault, Jamie, it was all my fault."

"No it wasn't," he whispered. "There was naught you could do t' stop it, ye've said so yerself. Listen, my love… you are a very good person, and ye are not an object. You're an absolutely beautiful woman, and I say that because you're kind, generous, and everything anyone could ask for. I want ye to know that."

There was only one part of that whole speech that really resonated with her.

_You are not an object._

Well, great, that's nice. Now what?

She saw Alexander toddle into the room, and hold out his arms. "Why is Mummy sad?"

"Someone said something mean about Mummy," she explained, picking him up and setting him on her hip. "They called Mummy a very nasty name."

Alexander's brow furrowed, his face going red in fury (well as far as fury in a nearly four year old could be interpreted). "That's mean! Not nice!"

"I know, love."

"I kiss and make it better?"

"Sure, right here," she pointed to her cheek.

Alexander obliged, and looked to his father. "Daddy, make them say sorry!"

"Don't you worry, I'll make sure they will," he smiled at the toddler. "Now, ye go on out t' the kitchen, I'm sure Maggie will find ye something to do."

"Maggie's here?" Bridget asked.

"Came just a few minutes ago," Jamie answered. "Said she was tired of being left out with Gordon and Ben being gone all the time. Plus she was bored, wanted to come here for the day." Jamie stood up and went out the door. "And she said she wanted to talk to you, as well."

"Oh God, I look a mess," Bridget wiped her eyes. Getting up, she looked herself in the mirror, and followed Alexander to the kitchen. She found Maggie sitting with her head on the table.

"Maggie?" she sat down beside Jamie's niece and waited till Maggie brought her head up to look at her. "Jamie said you wanted to talk to me?"

"Aye, I do," she answered, wringing her hands. Bridget could see she was shaking, biting her lip and holding back tears. "I wanted to ask…"

"You can ask me anything, Maggie, really," she put her hand over the young girl's.

"There's this boy…" Maggie started.

Bridget nodded.

"He's about sixteen…"

"What's his name?"

"Robert Campbell," Maggie answered. "And the other day, he asked if he could kiss me."

"Hmm mmm, and what happened?"

"I…" she seemed embarrassed. "I said yes, and I liked it, but…"

"But you're a little confused?"

Maggie shrugged her shoulders.

"Maggie, I need you to be honest with me," Bridget leaned forward, maintaining eye contact but still smiling. "This isn't the first time he's kissed you?"

Seeing no other alternative, Maggie admitted that it was not, and she didn't think she could go to her mother about it. The McCrimmons and the Campbells didn't like each other, she explained. And while she'd read Romeo and Juliet, she didn't really want to marry him, and she wasn't sure if she liked him at all. She wanted to talk to Bridget about it because she'd heard what was being said.

"I don't believe it, really I don't," she insisted. "But, I figured… you _know_ more than my mum, and I was scared Mum would get really mad. Since you don't know the Campbells I thought maybe…"

"It's alright, Maggie," she insisted.

"He, um…" she started again. "He wants t' bed me," she said it so quickly it sounded more like hewantstobedme.

Bridget nodded again. Reminding Maggie that she was only thirteen years old, going on fourteen would do absolutely no good, but she could see that she'd had the good sense to talk to someone about it.

"You understand that you always have the right to say no, Maggie," Bridget answered after a few minutes of quiet contemplation.

"That's not what other people say," she countered. "I've heard tell that ye have t'."

"No you don't," Bridget told her, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Never. If you say no, that's perfectly okay."

Maggie nodded.

"But at thirteen, nearly fourteen, you shouldn't be worrying about something like this."

"I know, but…"

Bridget nodded. "But?"

"I've heard ye lost your maidenhead at thirteen, right?"

"Yes that's true, I did, but that was not my fault. Yes, I may have more experience than your mother, but she's had two great men in her life that loved, and still love her to bits. I did not have that. Every day I live with the 'what if I could have stopped it?' There was no one to tell me that it's okay to ask for help, that it's okay to say no. I've paid the price for the experience I have, and I struggle with it day after day."

Maggie was at a loss for words.

"I buried everything I felt and got into bed with everything that walked, anyone that looked at me the way I thought was acceptable."

"I didn't know…" Maggie insisted.

"I know you didn't, love, and that's why I'm telling you this now. In any case, I'm going to ask you to wait, wait until you're married, or with someone you truly love, not with a boy who simply says he wants to bed you for the sake of bedding you. I don't want you to have to deal with the same thing I did."

Maggie nodded. "Do you have that now?"

"Do I have what now?"

"Someone that loves you enough to tell you it's okay?"

"Yes I do, and I'm very lucky to have him."

"Who is it?"

"It's your Uncle Jamie," she confirmed. Bridget had a feeling Maggie already knew, but wanted the confirmation and reassurance that it was okay to ask for help. "He knows everything that I just told you, and he loves me anyway."

Maggie reached over and hugged her tightly.

"You're due to marry him, right?"

"Yes I am."

"Even if you're not married yet, is it alright to call you Auntie?"

Bridget smiled to herself and hugged the girl tighter. "Of course it is." She pulled away and put her hands on Maggie's shoulders. "Anytime you need to talk, Maggie, just ask."

Maggie nodded, smiled, got up, and went outside to join her uncle in the barn.

And strangely enough, Bridget felt completely calm and collected. Suddenly her own feelings at being called whore for something that happened years before weren't so upsetting. If she could use that experience and knowledge to help even one person, as she felt she had, she'd done something worthwhile.

While not wishing to sound clichéd, as she knew it did, it was true.

But one question still ebbed at the back of her mind. Why had Maggie come to her in the first place, and why was she so scared to talk to Cora?

Well she understood better than anyone just how difficult it could be to talk to one's parents about things one doesn't quite understand. And since Maggie had trusted her enough to confide in her, she couldn't help but feel a little chuffed.

But, pushing aside such burning questions for the time being, she went out to the barn to see Jamie and Maggie deeply engrossed in helping Jamie's beloved mare, birth her foal.

"That's it, Maggie, now, can you turn it so the nose is toward us?"

Maggie grimaced in concentration, her arm being painfully squeezed by the powerful contractions the horse was experiencing.

"Yeah, I can…" her arm moved only a bit, and a smile spread across her face. "I did it!"

"Good job, love! Now, move back if ye can, with the foal turned the right way she should have no problem now…"

Maggie did as he told her, and watched as the vagina contracted once again, and the foal dropped on to the hay with an audible THUMP.

"Good girl!" Jamie praised the mare, cleaning off the foal as best he could while keeping Maggie out of harm's way.

"What did she have, Uncle?"

"Filly," he answered.

Bridget would assume that meant a female foal. From watching this exchange, she could see Maggie was old enough to understand such things as labour and birth, whereas this Robert Campbell was more than likely not, and truth be told she seemed more than capable of drawing her own conclusions and deciding what was right for her.

"I'm right proud of ye, Maggie," he went to her, massaged her shoulder. "You'll be bruised and sore tomorrow, but ye did good."

"Thanks, Uncle," she smiled. "Um… I hope you don't mind, but could I stay here tonight?"

"At the house ye mean?"

"Yeah."

He smiled. "Of course ye can, I'll send word t' your mum so she knows ye've not been dragged off by wild beasts."

"Oh, uh, Uncle?" she called as he moved out of the barn.

He turned and looked at her.

"Thank ye."

He smiled. He stopped and waited as Maggie stretched her arm out, but she didn't move.

"Are ye coming?"

And just like that she fell to her knees and burst out sobbing.

"What's the matter?" he asked. He got to his knees and pulled her close, offering her the warmth of his chest and the protection of his arms around her. "Come on, Maggie, tell me. What's happened?"

"He…" she sobbed, clutching Jamie's shirt. "He… hurt me."

"Who did?" Jamie stroked her hair. "Who hurt you, _geal_?"

She could barely speak.

Had this Robert Campbell kid done something more than what she'd told Bridget?

The whole story came out in a burst of sobs and hiccups. He lived on Gordon and Cora's land as a tenant, and he'd had his eye on Maggie for some time. He hadn't just _said_ he wanted to bed her, he'd tried to force her, and when she'd said no, he'd pinned her to the ground and stuck his hand up her skirt. With no way to fight (she'd tried to knee him in the balls, and she'd hit him in the face, but he hadn't moved off of her), and he'd touched her till she'd "arched and screamed", as she put it.

So he hadn't actually raped her, but he'd touched her enough to make her orgasm…

Sadist. The kid was a fucking sadist! What kind of person thinks it's acceptable to touch someone enough to force them to orgasm, and more than likely justify it to themselves by saying it wasn't rape because they hadn't actually penetrated her?

And if this kid lived on her parents' land, it was no wonder she wanted to stay with her and Jamie that night.

"It's alright_, geal,_ we'll fix this," Bridget could hear a forced sense of calm in his voice.

"You believe me?" she asked, astonished.

"Yes Maggie, I do believe you," he answered. "You did not deserve to have that happen, and you did nothing to provoke it. You said he lives on yer mum and dad's land as a tenant?"

Maggie nodded, her eyes cast down to the floor.

"Have you told them what happened?"

Maggie shook her head. "They wouldn't believe me."

"How do ye know that? Your mum and dad love you, and if ye told them the truth, I'm sure they'd do something."

"I tried t' tell them, Uncle, but I couldn't. I got all flustered."

"Do ye want me t' do something, _geal_?" He didn't even have to ask her, he was already plotting ways to dismember Robert Campbell's body and explain to his mother how he had died.

"There's nothing you _can_ do, Uncle," Maggie insisted. "It's my fault, and I have t' live with it. I've brought shame to the family."

Bridget's heart broke.


	26. Breathe In Breathe Out

**Naomi: Some people are just sick that way. But justice will be served, not to worry. Thank you for the review**

**ninewood: I'm so glad you liked your birthday present! I love Alex in this chapter, and I hope you do too. Thank you for the review**

**A/N: Extra special thank you to ninewood for all her help on this chapter. If it weren't for her, I'd still be fighting with the characters. Much love to you, my dear. Oh, and feel free to leave a review, the door is always open.**

**ooOoo**

_Breathe in breathe out tell me all of your doubt, everybody bleeds this way just the same. Breathe in breathe out move on and break down. If everyone goes away I will stay. We push and pull, and I fall down sometimes, I'm not letting go, you hold the other line._

_Breathe In Breathe Out- Mat Kearney_

**ooOoo**

Bridget softly knocked on the barn door, just enough to startle Maggie into looking at her without the young girl losing her lifeline in Jamie. Saying nothing, she got to her knees and wrapped her arms around Maggie's back.

"It was not your fault, _geal_," she heard Jamie whisper to the sobbing girl in his arms. "You're thirteen years old, you did nothing to provoke him."

"Then why do I feel so dirty?"

"Because you've gone through something no one should ever have to experience," Bridget told her. "You've been violated, Maggie, and your brain is trying to make sense of it."

"I don't know what to do."

"You just did something," Bridget answered. "You told someone, that's the first step…" None of them moved. "Best to let it come out, love. It's the best way."

Once her sobs had given way to hiccups, she asked if she could stay in the night once again, seemingly forgetting that Jamie had already agreed. They'd made her a cup of tea (best thing for shock, Bridget said), and settled her in the bed in the master bedroom. As a means of recovery, as it was barely two in the afternoon.

"Can Bridget stay in here tonight?" she asked.

Jamie and Bridget looked at each other. Was she asking that Bridget stay so she felt a little more protected? Because if that was the case, that was fine, Jamie would just have to sleep on the couch.

"You don't mind, do you?"

"No, o' course not." While he'd never understand what Maggie was going through, he knew that she and Bridget were now linked by common experience. "Although we should probably tell Cora and Gordon what's happened."

"You heard her, Jamie, she said she tried, and she couldn't do it. We'll have to take matters into our own hands. Gordon and Cora can't fight for her because they don't know what's happened. Until she tells them we'll have to do something."

Jamie nodded.

"Do you know where he lives?"

"Aye, close to Cora, he is on their land."

"What, you mean he works for her?"

"No, I didn't say works," Jamie answered. "He lives on her land as a tenant, meaning he pays rent to her and Gordon. I know his parents, and even though our families dinna really like each other, there's no reason why we can't respect each other."

"What are they like, then?"

"Campbell's parents, ye mean?"

"No, Gordon and Cora," Bridget rolled her eyes. "Yes, Campbell's parents, who else would I be asking about?"

"They're good people. They're very responsible, always on time with the quarterly rents and good parents. Rob's older brothers are none too much trouble. So far as I know they've never done anything rash. One of them, name's Elliot, he's in the army, and the other… I think his name is Michael, he's in the seminary."

"So Rob is just a bad egg then."

"Unfortunately, and it's up to us to restore Maggie's honour."

So, leaving Alexander in the care of Elaine the wash maid and Maggie safely restored to Cora, Jamie and Bridget set off toward the Campbell's estate.

It seemed a modest enough place, and it was by no means small, but something had to be done. One may not come from much, but that does not give one the right to violate the laird's daughter and expect there would be no consequences. Even if one's laird is not the first to hear of it, something has to be done.

They knocked on the door, and found Robert's father, Edgar, standing in the doorway.

"Sir, I am here to inform you that your son has grievously harmed my niece, one Margaret Elspeth Chisholm, and I demand satisfaction on her behalf."

"You wish to duel my son?"

"No, that would not be a fair fight. My wife could lay him out flat if that were the case. I only wish to make known the consequences of his actions and to inform you that I do not hold you responsible for what he has done."

The man seemed indifferent. "Very well, have at him." He reached back the open door and produced the offender, throwing him out the door and into the dirt at Jamie's feet.

He looked up, his eyes going wide at seeing Jamie. "Oh shit!"

"Yeah, oh shit," Jamie picked him up by the front of his shirt. "I suppose you know who I am?"

"Aye," his voice shook. "Can… can I help ye?"

"Can you help me?" Jamie fought the urge to laugh. "Aye, ye can help me, ye filthy scut. Ye can pay yer respects t' my wife."

Robert cast his eyes to Bridget. "Your s-servant, ma'am."

"My servant indeed," Bridget reached down and took his balls in her hand, twisted violently. "Now, if you're my servant, Robert Campbell, you'll accept this beating we're about to give you like a man, do I make myself clear?"

Robert winced and nodded, desperately wishing she'd let go. "Aye."

"Good," she let go and moved out of the way just in time for Jamie to knee him hard in the nether regions, sending him sprawling to the ground.

Jamie straddled the boy and set to work, covering every inch of the boy he could reach with bruises, starting with his eyes. True, Robert tried to fight back, throwing a punch or two, but Jamie was too quick on his feet. He dodged all Robert's attempts to kick, bite, or punch. While the two of them wrestled, Bridget waited patiently till Jamie had him prone on his back, and aimed several sharp kicks to the boy's ribs, secretly hoping she'd break a few and puncture a lung.

Jamie withdrew his dirk and held it to the boy's throat while Bridget sat on Robert's chest. "Now, understand this, boy. You are not to say anything about Maggie or contact her again, and if you so much as sneeze in her direction, you can be sure you'll be lying cold in your own grave. Do I make myself clear?"

The boy nodded weakly.

"Good…" he got up and replaced the dirk in his boot. "Bridget, would you care to finish him off?"

"Thank you, Jamie," she stood by Robert's head, and brought her boot down on his face, breaking his nose and sending a stream of blood down into his mouth. Having done so, she got down on her knees and got close to his ear.

"They don't like kiddy diddlers in prison, Robbie boy. They'll rape you three times before you hit the floor and not kill you till they see fit."

She heard him draw in a sharp breath.

"Now that you know that, you're not going to force yourself on another woman, are you?"

"No…" he gurgled through the blood obscuring his voice. "Never."

"Excellent," she got up and extended her hand. Pulling him up and wrapping one of his arms around her shoulder, Jamie doing the same with the other, they dragged him to the front door and waited.

Edgar came out to see his son hanging on to his two assailants.

"Satisfied?" he asked.

"Quite, thank you sir," Jamie answered, and handed the boy off to his father. "Justice is served, you shall not be hearing from my wife and I again." He stopped and turned to regard the man. "My sister and her husband on the other hand…"

Edgar Campbell did not seem perturbed, almost as though he'd known something like this was bound to happen.

Jamie and Bridget returned to Cora's house, where Maggie lay prone on the hearthrug, staring at the ceiling. Hearing the front door open, she jumped up and looked at her aunt and uncle.

"I give ye your vengeance, my lady," he addressed her as though he were speaking to one above his station, showing his cracked and bloodied knuckles, stained with not his blood but Campbell's. "And justice for the wrong committed against you."

Bridget could swear Maggie stopped breathing for close to a second, her eyes filling with tears. Stepping toward her uncle, she came into his arms and hugged him as though he'd just come back from war. Holding on to him tightly, Bridget saw her knees buckle, taking the two of them down to the floor in an embrace that said more in thanks and gratitude than words ever could.

She stepped outside, giving uncle and niece a moment's peace before the storm.

**ooOoo**

Maggie sobbed into his shoulder unrestrained, and it was all Jamie could do to hold her till it passed.

"Shh, _geal_, shh…" he whispered, kissing her temple. "He shan't touch you again. I promise you."

"I'm sorry, Uncle," she answered.

"What for?"

"I should have just let him do it," she sobbed. "I should have kept my mouth shut and just let him do it, we'd not be in this mess."

"Oh _geal,_ no," he rocked her back and forth. "No, that would have been worse. Ye did right."

_It doesn't feel like it_, Maggie thought to herself.

"I can't… I can't tell them," she insisted.

"In your own time, Maggie. You tell them in your own time."

"But what if he tries again and you're not here t' help?"

"If he does the next you'll see him is in his own grave," Jamie assured her. "He's well aware of that. Ye've got me, your auntie, and your mum and dad t' help you."

"But how are ye gonna keep him from me when he's working here?" she asked. "Uncle, I'm so scared he'll come again."

"You're going t' stay with me and your auntie tonight, remember?"

"Yeah, but…"

"But nothing, love. Once yer mum knows, and I've said ye don't have t' tell her right away, we'll work out something so that he has no contact with you."

They held each other still. He didn't know whether it was Maggie or he who needed the reassurance that they could stop this from happening again.

**ooOoo**

They returned to their own house to find Alexander already asleep. As agreed upon earlier in the day, Bridget and Maggie would sleep in the master bedroom and Jamie would be on the couch. This way Maggie would feel more protected, and since it was inappropriate for her to sleep in the same bed as a male relative past the age of three, this was the best solution they could come up with.

But Bridget found she could not sleep. In fact, she stared at the ceiling marveling at the support Maggie had now, and would have once she told her parents. In a way, she supposed she wished she'd had the same kind of support when the same thing had happened to her. But then again, Maggie did not have a father who committed the crime and a mother who was so scared at what would befall them should she report the abuse. Her mother had probably thought that to tell him to stop would mean death. To save their lives, it seemed that she became indifferent and allowed it to happen.

Still, that had been many years ago, or in the future, depending on how one looked at the timeline. Either way the explanation would not change.

When Maggie awoke the next morning, there was barely a word between them. They ate breakfast in silence, which no doubt unnerved Alexander, who pulled Bridget aside and asked why Maggie was so quiet.

"Maggie is feeling very sad, love," Bridget explained. "Someone hurt her very badly, and she needs some time to heal."

"Did Daddy go and beat them up?"

"Yes he did," Bridget answered.

"Good," the toddler answered. "He say sorry?"

"The bad man said sorry to your Daddy, yes, but he hasn't said sorry to Maggie yet."

"Oh…" Alexander stuck out his lower lip. "I wanna help Maggie!"

"Sweetie there's not much you can do to help," Bridget told him.

"Want to help!" he repeated.

A noble gesture at any rate.

"Hold on, Mummy, I show you!" he ran to his bedroom and came back fully kitted out in a play helmet, an old breastplate, a shield and a wooden sword. He went out to the kitchen where Jamie had cleared the dishes and Maggie had volunteered to start washing.

Bridget fought the urge to giggle as Maggie turned to see her young cousin kitted out.

"Dinna fash, Maggie, I 'tect you!" he swung the wooden sword at the invisible 'bad man' standing in the kitchen. "Back! Leave Maggie 'lone!"

"My hero!" Maggie put her hand to her mouth to keep herself from giggling. "You're too sweet, Alex."

Alex marched forward and swung at the chair leg. "Monsters stay back!"

Bridget put her hand over her mouth and fought the urge to laugh. "Shh, don't laugh!" she mouthed at Jamie, who was biting the inside of his cheek in response.

When Alex had safely gone out the door, shouting "Creag an tuire!" at the invisible monsters that threatened his family, Maggie turned to her uncle.

"I want t' tell my mum what happened." She scrubbed at the bowl she held in her hand.

Jamie bit his lip.


	27. Ever the Same

**Emo Naom: Maggie's going to need all the encouragement she was get. Thanks for the review.**

**ninewood: I love Alex. He's so adorable I could eat him up. Thanks for the review**

**A/N: Special big thank you to ninewood for her help on this chapter. I don't know what I would have done without her. Much love to you, my dear. And to those who lurk, feel free to leave a review, the door is always open.**

**ooOoo**

_You may need me there to carry all your weight, but you're no burden, I know for sure. It's tiding me over, with a warmth I'll not forget, and I can only, give you love. Fall on me, tell me everything you want to be, forever with you, forever in me, ever the same._

_Ever The Same- Rob Thomas_

**ooOoo**

"Are you sure you're ready for it, _geal_?"

"Well they're bound to hear about it sooner or later, after you beat the living snot out of Rob Campbell. I'm ready, but I'm not. Does that make sense?"

"Aye it does," Jamie answered.

"Would you stay with me?" she pleaded. "When I tell them, would you stay with me?"

"Aye, and I'll hold yer hand if ye need it," he noticed a tear forming in the corner of her eye. He gently caught it on his finger.

"I think I'm going to," she agreed. "When these are finished, can you call them over?"

Jamie nodded, locking eyes with Bridget, who then agreed to distract Alex by taking him for a long walk. It was better that he believed he was helping her because she felt sad rather than actually knowing what the 'bad man' had done to her.

Gordon and Cora arrived less than an hour later, terrified for Maggie. What could possibly be so wrong that she didn't want to come home? And why were all the tenants abuzz with the knowledge that Robert Campbell had been beaten to a pulp?

Jamie, Maggie, Gordon and Cora sat down in the living room, on the couch and chairs. Bridget took the opportunity to gather Alexander and take him outside.

"But I hafta 'tect Maggie!" he protested.

"I know, but Daddy has to help her tell her mummy what the bad man did to her, and the best way for you to protect her is to go outside, and we'll take a long walk, make sure there's no one there to hurt anyone, okay?"

He reluctantly agreed.

**ooOoo**

Maggie's story came out in one big breath, all the while clutching Jamie's hand. There was nothing else to it, Rob Campbell had tried to rape her, and she'd told Jamie, who, along with Bridget had made him pay. Once the entire story was out, the silence that hung in the air was louder than any amount of shouting would have been.

"You took care of it, Jamie?" Gordon asked, his voice shaking.

"Aye, she came to me first."

"But she's _my_ daughter!"

"Daddy, don't be upset…" Maggie started.

"Dinna tell me not t' be upset!" he nearly roared. "That cunt tries t' rape ye and ye tell me not t' be upset?"

"Hear her out, Gordon," Cora whispered, squeezing his forearm.

"We both have an emotional attachment," Jamie explained, using the same terminology Bridget had suggested when he'd asked for her advice on what she'd say in explanation. "You more so than me, since ye raised her since she was seven."

"Aye, and she shoulda come t' me and told me what happened."

"I dinna ken why she told me first," Jamie answered. "But she did, and now she's ready t' tell you, and she asked me to sit here when she did."

Gordon huffed, shook his head, and excused himself from present company. The three remaining deduced that he was likely off to go kick someone squarely between the legs or shoot something, one of the two.

There were tears in Maggie's eyes as she watched her father walk away. "I'm sorry, Mama."

Cora's eyes were soft. "Why didn't you tell me before?" she placed her hand over her daughter's as Jamie pulled away. He still sat beside his niece, more as a calming presence than anything else.

"Because I was afraid you'd think me a whore."

Cora closed her eyes for a second. "Not if the lad forced himself on ye. I ken my daughter, aye. And she is nae that."

"But…"

"Nae, ye are not. What I'm angry at is that ye dinna come t' me straight away with this."

"I dinna want Daddy or you arrested because one o' you would have killed him. I couldna bare the thought of seeing my Mum and Daddy carried off in chains."

"Yer Da would do anything to protect ye, Maggie."

"And I dinna want t' see him carried off in chains," Maggie repeated. "I love you too much t' see ye hanged for killing a man."

"A man isna a man if he forces himself on young girls," Cora told her. "Ye did right in telling him no, he was in the wrong. Whether yer Da woulda killed him or no, I still want ye t' come and tell me things," she smiled. "I'm your mother, it's what I'm here for."

Cora and Maggie both got to their feet, mother embracing daughter. "It's our job as yer mum and dad t' protect ye, not the other way around. I'd gladly kill anyone who tried to hurt ye, because I love ye. Do you understand?"

"Aye Mama, I understand," Maggie's voice shook with unshed tears.

Jamie left the two of them alone and sat outside on the steps. His head in his hands, he only wished he could take the burden from Maggie and carry it himself. There was no point in going after Gordon. When the man was ready to say anything, he'd do so. Till then, it was best to let him be.

Cora came out and sat beside him.

"I canna thank ye enough for what ye did," she put a hand on his back.

"Cora…"

"Nae, let me finish," she insisted, taking a deep breath. "If she told anyone first, I'm glad it was you. Ye went well beyond the call of duty, t' go and beat the lad for what he did to her. It's just…"

"It's what?"

"I just ken I failed," she sounded more defeated than ever before. "I failed as her mum if I let this happen t' her."

"No, Cora, ye dinna fail," Jamie answered. "Rob Campbell is a swiving scut who no doubt likes t' prey on people who canna defend themselves. If I were a betting man I'd wager the shirt off m' back Maggie wasna the first girl he tried t' force himself on."

"I shoulda found a way t' protect her."

"Ye canna keep her locked in the house till she's married," Jamie reasoned. "Ye've raised her right, if she's telling the lad she no wants t' go t' bed with him when she's no ready."

"But…"

"Nae, ye have nothing to fear," Jamie put his arm around her shoulder. "If she's smart enough t' say no and talk t' someone about it, ye did right. Maggie will grow up just fine, and she'll thank ye in the end."

"Still have my doubts though." Cora admitted. "On the one hand my son wants t' be a priest, and that's all well an' good, but then my poor wee girl is nearly violated cause I couldna protect her."

"She's nae gonna become a prostitute, I can tell ye that."

"I don't know what I did wrong…" there were tears in her eyes.

"Oh Cora," Jamie pulled her close.

Whatever wall had been holding her back broke, and she laid her head in her brother's lap. Crying for more than just Maggie's ordeal, Jamie held his sister close, whispering soft Gaelic.

She'd been the strong one for too long, he knew that. She'd put on a strong front for her children, no matter how old they were, but when they weren't around, then she could cry. Cora didn't cry often, but when she did, she was much better for it afterward.

"Shh, my dove," he rocked her back and forth. "Ye dinna need t' fash yerself about it now," he kissed the back of her head. "Maggie is alright, the lad will have no contact with her, nor she with him. It's a terrible shock, I know, but ye did naught wrong."

When she'd cried herself out, they stood up. Jamie put a hand on her shoulder, and took a deep breath.

His shoulders haunched and broadened, accepting Cora's burden himself. He kissed her cheek and brought her hand to his lips.

"Go home an' let yer husband give ye comfort, my dove," he told her. "Bridget an' I will keep Maggie another night."

Cora nodded, turned, and began the lonely trek home.

**ooOoo**

"Uncle, where's Mama going?" Maggie asked.

"I said we'll keep ye another night," Jamie offered in way of explanation. "What ye told her gave her a nasty shock. Was nae yer fault, but it's best ye stay with us for now."

"Aye," she answered. "I'm so sorry Uncle."

"No Maggie, don't apologize for something that wasna your fault," he told her. "Ye told the truth, and that's the most important thing."

She suddenly looked green. She took three steps away and neatly vomited behind a rock.

Jamie gathered her hair and held it back until she finished.

"Ow…" she moaned listlessly.

"You okay?"

"No, here comes more…" she vomited again.

"You're nae with child?"

"Nae, I've got m' courses this week," she explained, vomited again behind the rock. "He didna get inside me, Uncle. I'm still virgin…"

"Okay, Maggie, dinna fash," he soothed as she retched one last time and slumped over the rock, exhausted. "That's a girl. You're not ill?"

"Nae, sometimes happens wi' things like this."

"This has happened before? Campbell's forced himself on ye before?"

"No no, I mean when things are really stressful," she answered. "How long am I t' stay?"

"As long as ye need, _geal,_" he answered.

She took a few deep breaths. "I dinna want t' go home, Uncle, not till he's gone."

"Tis nae trouble, Maggie," he assured her. "Long as ye need."

**ooOoo**

Bridget and Alex had come back soon afterward, Alex tuckered out and wanting to go to bed. They'd kept him up though, knowing that if he slept in the middle of the day he'd never sleep through the night. They'd put Maggie on the couch (she didn't mind, she said), and now had the peace and quiet they'd been needing all day.

"Tell me, Bridget…" Jamie started.

"Yes, tell you what?"

"If I were t' be arrested, an' the Doctor find his way back here…"

"Mmm hmm, go on…"

"Would ye go back t' yer own time? Keep yerself and Alex safe?"

"This is a hypothetical question, right?"

"Eh?"

"It's just pretend?

"Aye, just pretend."

"And there's absolutely no way to get you out of jail?"

"Aye, I'm gone for good."

It took her less than thirty seconds to come up with an answer. "No, I wouldn't do it."

He bit his lip. "Why wouldn't you do it?"

"Because I don't belong there anymore. I belong here. I've got friends here, I've built a good life here."

"Aye, and that's all well and good, but what would ye do after I was gone? A woman on her own is a target for scandal and rumour."

"A married woman who's just lost her husband?"

"Nae, but every single unmarried man would come t' court ye."

"Ha, that's so funny I forgot to laugh," she snorted. "Here's what would happen, Jamie. I'd mourn you properly, and if the time was right, and _if _the right man came along, _maybe_ I'd consider marrying again. And those are two big ifs and a really big maybe."

He kissed her quickly.

"So, since it's not going to happen, can we talk about something else, or better yet…"

She kissed him again.

Later, as she lay curled against him, her head on his chest, he found he couldn't sleep. Yes, it was noble that she'd not leave if something so horrific (God forbid it all, salt over the shoulder, scratch a stay, turn three times etc etc) should happen, but he knew the difference between blind loyalty and running scared.

This was neither.

However, he had to convince her to go, should the need arise. He'd never be able to live with himself, knowing Bridget and Alex were so vulnerable. Yes, they'd married by contract the week before, and therefore she had a claim on his land and could run it on her own with Gordon and Cora's help if need be, but he still worried.

He didn't know how he'd convince her, but he'd find a way.

Somehow.


	28. I Will Remember You

**ninewood: Yes I know you know, but I'm glad you love it and review anyways :)**

**A/N: Special thank you to ninewood for all the help she's given me on this chapter. Much love to you, dear. And to those who lurk, feel free to leave a review, the door is always open.**

**ooOoo**

_Eight years later, time goes by fast. Got my memories, and they will last. I try to keep it simple cause I hate goodbyes, I try to keep it simple by telling myself, that I, I will remember you, and all of the things that we've gone through. There is so much I could say but words get in the way, so when we're not together, I will remember you._

_I Will Remember You- Ryan Cabrera_

**ooOoo**

**24****th**** November 1754**

"Birthday! It's my birthday!" Alex ran into the room.

"Yes it is, now go back to bed, it's 4AM." Bridget mumbled from under the blanket.

"Don't wanna!" he ran around to the other side and pulled on Jamie's arm. "Daddy, wake up! Wake up!"

Jamie stirred. "Your mother told you to go back to bed," he answered.

"No, don't wanna!"

"Alex, if ye dinna go back to bed right now you're getting a smack on the bum for a birthday present, now go!"

Alex stuck out his lower lip. "Fine!" he whined and stomped out of the room. He muttered something about wanting to know what kind of birthday cake he was going to have (they'd been able to get at least some fruits and dry them themselves), but sugar was still a rarity. Still, with a promise that he'd get a birthday cake at some point during the day, Bridget got up and tucked him back into bed.

Returning to her own bed, she found Jamie wide awake.

"Why are you up?"

"Couldna sleep after that," he answered. "Pulling on my arm and insisting that I wake up."

"He's a little kid, Jamie," she chuckled. "They do strange things, but as do we. He's just excited about his birthday."

"Aye, but we dinna have much t' give him."

"It doesn't matter to him," she insisted. "He just wants to know we haven't forgotten."

"Kinda hard t' do that when I can still hear Georgia's screams as she was givin' birth." He hadn't spoken about Georgia in over a year, but it was kind of hard to ignore the fact that she had given birth to Alexander, even if she had shown little to no interest in him at all. "When she pushed him out an' Cora handed him t' me Georgia beckoned me t' her and whispered in my ear 'There ye go, Jamie, he's yer problem now." I couldna believe it."

"Why would she say such a thing?"

"I dinna ken. Ye ken why I say yer more his mum then she ever was?"

"Yes I see, but I'm so sorry, Jamie. You didn't deserve something like that. You said it was an arranged marriage?"

"Aye, Cora was desperate for me t' find some happiness, and Georgia was a target."

"How do you mean?"

"She was nearly 25 and still unmarried, and with me being unmarried at 30 and having a good amount of land, Cora suggested we get married. We dinna have t' like each other, so long as we could help each other out."

"Oh… but then just after Alex was born she got sick, right?"

"Aye, and it took her nearly three years t' die. I could swear she was hanging on just t' spite me."

"What? Was it a 'you ruined my life by making me fat and ugly so I'm going to make you pay for it, _sucker_!' type thing?"

"It's the only reasonable explanation that I can think of," Jamie answered. "But, even though she gave birth, _you're_ his mother, and you're my wife now."

"I'm still getting used to that," Bridget admitted, snuggling in close to him. "Being your wife."

He smiled.

"But I wouldn't change it for anything," she told him, kissing his chest.

The smile didn't fade. "What did you do for the presents and such?"

"I designed a scavenger hunt," she answered him. "I wrote out clues and hid the gifts all around the bedrooms and kitchen."

"He'll have a ball," Jamie could see Alexander running around the house looking for his gifts.

"It isn't much, but I wanted him to have something fun to do."

"Well then, if we want that t' happen, perhaps we should go back t' sleep."

"Or how about…" Bridget climbed on top of him and straddled his hips. "We _don't _sleep, and just pretend we are?"

He grinned devilishly.

**ooOoo**

"I found 'nother one!' Alex shouted, running back toward Jamie and Bridget clutching a teddy.

"You did?" Bridget feigned amazement. "Who's that from?"

"Mummy!" he wrapped himself around her legs. "Thank you Mummy!"

"You're welcome, sweetie," she smiled. "Did you say thank you to your Auntie Cora and Uncle Gordon too? They brought you some nice gifts as well."

Alex did as he was told, and quickly situated himself at the table where Bridget had laid out his cake. It was a small loaf cake Cora had taught her how to make called 'Black Bun', which was filled with all sorts of fruit.

Just as they were sitting down to cut the cake, they heard a whirring noise behind them.

Jamie and Bridget exchanged glances.

"Shit!"

"Mummy, Daddy said a bad word!"

"Daddy, you need to apologize!" Bridget said over Alex's head.

"Sorry," Jamie answered.

Alex got up from the table and quickly ran into the house, coming back with the bar of soap. "Here!"

Bridget grinned. "Say ah, Daddy."

Jamie took his punishment, if only to appease his son. He held the bar of soap in his mouth for about ten seconds before making a sour face and spitting it out.

"Why Jamie, I didn't know you were in the habit of eating soap."

Jamie smiled, turned, and came face to face with the Doctor.

"It's delicious, Doctor, would you like some?"

"I'll pass, thank you," he squeezed Bridget's hand. "How are you my dear?"

"Thrilled that you're here, Doctor," she smiled at him just as Alex came running by her shouting 'Canna catch me!'

"I can't catch you? Oh we'll see about that!" Jamie ran after him and caught the youngster around the middle, hanging him upside down.

The Doctor chuckled. "And this is Alexander, is it?"

"Aye sir," Alex answered, still hanging upside down. "Daddy, put me down!"

"Okay, hands out…" Alex did so as Jamie lowered him closer to the ground. Alex's hands touched down, Jamie released his waist, and let the boy come right side up before sending him on his way.

"Nice of you to show up today, Doctor," Jamie told him, shaking his hand. "Sorry bout m' hands, been runnin' after 'im all day."

"What do you expect? It's his birthday."

"Good for him," the Doctor clapped his hands once. "It's wonderful to see you two, it really is."

"Mummy!" Alex came running right back to her, wrapping himself around her leg.

"What's the matter, love?" she asked.

"He calls you Mummy? That's splendid!"

"He has for over a year now," she picked Alex up and set him on her hip. "Take a deep breath, _mo cridhe_, and tell me what's the matter."

"Look!" he pointed over the hill.

Bridget followed his finger to see a foot soldier on horseback coming over the hill, clearly in search of someone.

"Alex, you go in the house," she instructed. "Your Auntie will take you in. Go!"

"Yes Mummy," there was no mistaking the panic creeping into her voice. However, no matter how panicked she was, she'd keep herself together for Alex's sake.

As they approached the party, Jamie and Bridget stood fast, arms locked around each other's shoulders. The Doctor gripped Bridget's other hand.

"We are looking for a James Robert McCrimmon," said one.

"That's me," Jamie stepped forward. "Can I help ye?"

"My name is Algernon Ffinch," the man answered.

Why did that name sound familiar?

"Aye, I ken who ye are…" Jamie answered. "As I said before, what are ye doing here?"

"I'm here to bring you to Edinburgh," Ffinch informed him, stepping out of the saddle. "I assume you remember Culloden?"

"You mean where most o' my friends were killed fightin' for what we thought was right, an' yer side tryin' t' stop us? Aye, tis not something easily forgotten. Now then, Ffinch, ye still havena answered m' question, why are ye t' take me t' Edinburgh?"

"You must answer to charges made against you."

Jamie's brow furrowed. "By whom?"

"I believe his name is…" Ffinch unfolded the paper he held in his hand and scanned it quickly. "Louis Renaldi. Are you acquainted with this man?"

Jamie's face dropped. "Aye, I mind him," he ran his hand down his face and turned to Bridget.

"What's going on?" her voice was shaking.

"They're gonna have t' take me."

"And then what?"

"If they decide I'm guilty, then they hang me."

"What?" Bridget shouted. "No! They can't do that! What cause do they have, besides one man's word against another?"

"Sometimes that's all they need, love," he answered, taking her in his arms.

"For the love of God, no!" she breathed against his shoulder. "Jamie, please… don't. You're all I've got."

"My patience is wearing thin, Mr. McCrimmon," Ffinch climbed down off his horse and seized him by the shoulder.

"No!" Bridget shouted. "I'll do anything, just please, Mr. Ffinch I beg of you, don't take him."

"And who might you be?"

"I'm Jamie's wife," she stepped in front of him.

"Bridget, I dinna need ye t' protect me," he whispered in her ear. "This is why we did what we did, in case something like this would ever happen…"

Ffinch pulled on Jamie's arm.

"Will ye no wait a second, man!" Jamie grit his teeth. "If I'm no t' see m' family again, at least let me say goodbye."

Ffinch let go.

Unbeknownst to all parties, Alexander had seen the whole exchange through the window, and threw himself out the door.

"_Daddy_!" he shouted, flinging himself into Jamie's arms. "No! No take my daddy!"

"Alex…" Jamie kissed his son and handed him to Bridget. "You be good and protect your mummy, do ye understand?"

Alex nodded dumbly.

Jamie kissed Bridget deeply. "As a last request, Bridget, and I ask ye this as a man about t' die, dinna fight this. If ye love me at all, ask the Doctor t' take ye and Alex back t' yer own time. I canna stand the thought of losing you. Please…"

"I can't just stand here and watch you be taken away from me!"

Jamie took a deep breath. "Please, for our son's sake… please."

Bridget nodded, reached out, and pulled him to her. She kissed him, knowing full well it would probably be the last time she'd ever do so. "I'm pregnant," she said simply.

Jamie's mouth dropped open as Ffinch pulled on his arm, dragging him away.

"Daddy, no! Dinna go!"

"You be good an' protect yer mummy, do ye hear?" Jamie called to him over his shoulder as he was led away out of sight.

"Daddy!" Alex sobbed against Bridget's shoulder.

"It's okay, _mo cridhe_," she kissed his hair. "Doctor…"

"I heard his request, my dear, and I shall do as he asked," he put a guiding hand on her elbow and led her back to the TARDIS. Sighing in defeat, she set Alex down and let him run inside the box.

Once inside, he set himself in the corner of the console room and hugged his knees. Not that she could blame him, the poor thing. He'd just watched his father being carried off in chains, something they'd sworn would never happen.

As the Doctor set the coordinates and dematerialized, he looked over to see Bridget setting Alex up at the table with a simple puzzle.

"It's like a picture," he heard her explain.

"Why's it all in pieces?"

"So you can put it back together," she emptied the box on to the table. "There, now the first thing to do is to turn all the pieces over so you can see them…"

"I do it!"

"Okay, you do it," Bridget backed away and put up her hands in surrender. "Can Mummy go talk with the Doctor now?"

"Uh huh…"

"Okay, _mo cridhe_, you tell me if you need my help…" she went back over to the console, where the Doctor promptly hugged her.

"Are you sure you're pregnant, my dear?"

"I haven't had my courses in over three months, Doctor. I'm very sure," she answered. "I was going to tell Jamie after Alex's birthday party, and now he'll never see his children grow up…"

"Never is a very strong word, Bridget," he whispered. "When I get you and Alexander back to where you need to be, I'll find a way to bring him back to you."

"I can't ask you to do that, Doctor, you're risking your life!"

"I've risked my life many times, my dear," he kissed her forehead.

"I won't have you do it on my behalf," she said stubbornly.

"You deserve to have your husband by your side, and your children deserve to have their father around to help you raise them," the Doctor could be just as stubborn. "And if I cannot give him back to you, then I've failed."

Bridget's mouth hung open.

At this point, she'd do anything, and she meant anything, to get Jamie back, and if the Doctor was willing to do it for her…

"Alright…" she breathed.


	29. So Long Jimmy

**ninewood: Oh, oh, wait for what happens here! *smiles*. Thank you for the review**

**Garden Gnomie: That's alright. Glad you liked the chapter.**

**A/N: A bit of a heavy chapter, deals with some tough stuff, but it's so important to the story. Please feel free to leave a review, the door is always open.**

**ooOoo**

_Does everyone have a different take, do you seem real but I seem fake, does everyone get hypnotized by your fire? So long Jimmy, so long, though you only stayed a moment we all know that you're the one singing… so long Jimmy, so long, sure we got for the experience, we miss you now you're gone. We're just swimming in your soul, cause we wish we wrote the song, life goes on…_

_So Long Jimmy- James Blunt_

**ooOoo**

**24****th**** December 1754**

Jamie had spent a month in prison, gone without food, bathing, and had had very little water. Though not a religious man, he always hoped and prayed that Bridget and Alex were safe in her own time, wherever they'd settled.

To keep himself from going insane, he took to talking to another man, whose name he couldn't quite remember for lack of sleep and water, but he seemed to emphaize with Jamie.

"My wife told me she was pregnant the day I was thrown in here," he admitted to this other man. "I dinna ken where she is now."

"What about yer boy? Ye said ye had a son?"

"Aye, he's wi' her," he answered. "I begged her t' take him so that they'd be safe. I dinna want m' family t' see me hanged for somethin' I dinna do."

"Who's this… what's his name, Renaldi, that's shootin' his mouth off bout you?"

"I dunno. Maybe I ken 'im by another name, but Louis Renaldi… I don't know. I only said I did so m' wife wouldna fight it. If she had we'd both be dead." He didn't feel right having to lie to Bridget, but if that was the only thing he had to worry about, he'd count himself lucky. No matter what, he was still stuck, and supposed he would just have to wait, and bide his time till something or someone could help him out.

Snowball's chance in hell of that happening.

BONG!

"What the hell?"

BONG!

"It's alright," the man he'd been talking to put a hand on his arm. "It's the church bells. Ring 'im every Christmas Eve."

Jamie put his head down on his knees. Christmas… of all the days in the year, it had to be Christmas.

**ooOoo**

**25****th**** December, 2010**

**Ottawa, ON**

"It's Christmas, Mummy, it's Christmas!"

"Yeah, I know it's Christmas, baby. What would you like for breakfast?"

"Um…" he struggled with his decision, but before casting his eyes down toward her belly. "Mummy, your belly's sticking out,"

"It is?" she feigned amazement, leaning back and casting her own eyes down. "Oh look at that, it is! Maybe Mummy ate too much."

"No… Mummy didn't eat too much," Alex observed.

"You're right, there's a baby in there."

"There is?" he gently put a hand on her belly. "A baby? A real baby?"

"Yes there is," Bridget smiled. "The baby is too small to really do anything yet. Baby's only about this big," she made a small circle with her thumb and forefinger about the size of a two dollar coin. That wasn't exactly the most accurate description, but it would do.

"Oh…" he smiled and patted her belly. "I 'tect you, Mummy. You and baby."

Bridget's heart melted.

"You're doing a very good job," she agreed. "But it's Mummy's job to protect _you._"

"Not at school…"

"No, at school the teachers are there to do that. They teach you everything you need to know, and even though you're a very big grown up boy, school is going to help you."

"Oh…" it almost seemed as though he didn't understand the concept. "Mummy, is it wrong to wear this to school?"

"The kilt? Never. It's never wrong. Why?"

"Kids tease me."

"For wearing the kilt?"

He nodded. "They keep saying it's a dress, and boys don't wear dresses."

"Well _you_ know it's not a dress, and you like wearing it, right? Because you're proud of being Scottish."

"Uh huh."

"Then that's what important…" she sat down on the floor and held out her arms. Climbing into her lap, he cuddled against her. "And when the kids tease you again, you turn around, look them right in the eye, and say 'Please don't do that, that hurts my feelings', and if they keep doing it, you go and tell the teacher."

"Okay," he whimpered, his thumb in his mouth.

Bridget bent down and kissed her son's cheek. "What's the matter, sweetie?"

"I miss Daddy," he told her.

"I know," Bridget kissed her son's head. "I miss Daddy too. And it's okay to miss Daddy, but Daddy wouldn't want us to be sad all the time, especially on Christmas. Christmas is a time for being happy."

"Don't feel happy."

Neither did she, quite frankly.

"Then how about we sit here together on the floor, and just be sad for a little while?"

He nodded.

"Okay, we'll just be sad for a little while, just you and me."

"Baby too?"

"Nope, just you and me."

Alex nodded, and cuddled up to Bridget.

All she could do in the interim was wish that the Doctor could get Jamie out and bring him back.

**ooOoo**

"Christmas…" Jamie breathed. "O' course. O' course that's exactly what they'd do, just t' rub salt in our wounds. Hey, it's Christmas, ye ken? And yer in here, waiting t' die.'"

"Jamie?"

"Aye," he turned toward the man he'd struck up conversation with.

"What if I gave m'self up in yer place?"

Jamie's mouth dropped open. "Why in God's name would ye do that, man?" he shook his head to make sure he heard correctly. "Ye have yer own wife and bairns t' think of, don't ye?"

"Nae, not anymore."

Upon asking why, Jamie was regaled with the tale of the man's journey to the prison. He'd been a Jacobite sympathizer, same as Jamie, had been on the run for several years, but had been caught only a year before. His wife and son had long since died of the childbed fever, and his daughter had been lost in the gunfire. When the smoke had cleared, he'd come face to face with his daughter's body lying bruised and bloodied on the moor.

He'd lost everything that day at Culloden. He'd spent years running from the ghosts, and he was tired of it, and he wanted to do one last good thing before he died. If he could use his last day to get Jamie out and home to his wife and children, God help him, he would do it.

"If they let ye do it, man, is there anything I can do for you in return?"

"A dead man doesna have a need for a returned favour," he answered.

"I insist."

"Well then, if ye must…" the man rested his head on his knees for a second. "If yer a praying man…"

"I'm not really, but the Good Book seems a good alternative," Jamie didn't even feel the need to chuckle. "What is it ye'd have me do?"

"When they hang me, and yer free, would yer face be the last I see?"

Jamie nodded. "What was yer daughter's name?"

The man looked at him. "Why do ye ask?"

"I can think o' nothing less than t' name my daughter the same, as a last payment t' you."

The man took a deep breath.

"Louise…"

It sounded as though it physically hurt him to say the name, and at that point, Jamie sure as hell didn't blame him if it did. Rarely did he mention Bridget or Alex by name, and he hadn't done so in a month. Better that way, then it wouldn't hurt so much. It was always 'my wife' or 'my son'.

"It's a very good name," Jamie agreed. "If my wife is agreeable, my daughter will be Louise."

The man nodded, and drifted off to sleep.

**ooOoo**

The next morning came far too early for both of them. The anonymous man asked to be brought to the prison captain, and confessed to everything. Jamie McCrimmon had had nothing to do with it. _He'd_ led the Jacobite army into rebellion against the King, and as such he should be condemned to die, not an innocent man.

Jamie was not immediately released at any rate. He'd been tied to one of the horse carts and whipped till his back was raw, about 100 strokes had been counted, and he could feel each one fully and completely. Still, if this and having his ear nailed to the pillory for a day was all he would escape with, he was more than happy to take it.

Once he'd torn himself free, he met with the Doctor, who held him steady throughout the anonymous man's hanging. As he'd promised, Jamie's face was the last face the man saw as the trap door gave away beneath him, and his neck snapped. Satisfied that he'd fulfilled at least part of his promise, he let the Doctor lead him to the TARDIS and into the Medical Bay.

"Now I fully understand why you asked me to take Bridget and Alex back," the Doctor applied salves to the cuts on Jamie's back.

"Ye dinna ken before?" Jamie grit his teeth as the salve did its work.

"Not something of this magnitude," he admitted. "That man gave his life for you and you still took such a punishment."

"I'd rather take 100 strokes and my ear nailed in repayment to the man than to just walk away."

"It's completely barbaric."

"Tis just the way things are done," he mumbled, enjoying the calm that swept over him, at least momentarily.

"I understand that Jamie, but the whole thing is wrong. It's just wrong…"

**ooOoo**

**5****th**** May 2010**

**Ottawa, ON**

"Alright, I'm here," Bridget maneuvered herself into a chair and attempted to smile, putting a hand on her belly. "I'm sorry about the wait. Baby's decided to use my bladder as a trampoline."

"Not at all," Alex's teacher, Mrs. Quinn, answered. "Now, Mrs. McCrimmon, Alexander didn't tell you why you were called down here?"

"No, he's still sitting in the office until we work this out," Bridget answered. "All I was told what that there was an incident. Care to tell me what this incident was?"

"He punched another child in the nose without provocation."

"What?" Bridget made a face. "There's no way that would have happened. Alex would never hit anyone without being provoked, and even then I don't encourage it. There's something you're not telling me."

"He bit him as well."

Bridget's eyes shifted left to right. "What exactly did this kid say?"

"According to Alex, the phrase was 'ginger haired Scottish bastard.'"

Bridget's mouth dropped open.

"Was this other child punished as well?"

"He swears he didn't mean anything by it."

"A child learns from their surroundings, Mrs. Quinn, and while I'm sure you don't use the phrase, I've had Alex get off the school bus in tears because he's been teased for what he wears, and how he speaks, and apparently because his father isn't at home."

"If you don't mind me asking, what happened to Alexander's father?"

"He was killed in the war," Bridget said simply. Occum's Razor at work. She couldn't exactly say that Jamie was an 18th century Scottish Highlander who had most likely been hung in a filthy Scottish prison eight years after the Battle of Culloden. Saying that he'd been killed in the war overseas would have to do.

Mrs. Quinn gasped. "I'm sorry for your loss."

"Thank you," Bridget answered.

"How did it happen?"

"A car bomb," Bridget answered, putting a hand over her belly as she recited the carefully constructed tale. "The story I got was that he'd stopped to give some water to a couple of young children who were begging for a cold drink, and that was it."

Mrs. Quinn nodded sympathically.

"That's not why we're here though," Bridget shook her head. "I'd like to know the reasoning for my son being sent to the headmaster's office and this other child not being punished in a similar fashion."

"It's one child's word against another, Mrs. McCrimmon, and unfortunately it looked as though Alexander was the instigator, and therefore he receives the harsher of the punishments."

"You're not listening, Mrs. Quinn," Bridget grit her teeth. "Alex was not the instigator from the sounds of it. He punched the other boy for calling him a horrible name that no four year old should ever know, and Alex is the one being suspended?"

"His half of the story didn't come to light until later."

"Nevertheless Alex should not be the only one punished," she stood up. "This is ridiculous. I'll speak to Alex about keeping his hands to himself, and he'll take this punishment, but this is the only time it will happen. Let me assure you, Mrs. Quinn, that if this sort of behaviour continues, I will withdraw my son from this school and enroll him elsewhere. Good day to you."

She got up, retrieved Alex, and the two of them walked home hand in hand.


	30. Forever Young

**ninewood: In all honesty, The Anonymous Man was just tired of living, but what a great gesture to do something for someone you don't even know so that they can be reunited with their family. You'll find out here about that, don't you worry (smiles).**

**cakie313: I love writing Alex. Since he's a little kid, I don't need to justify the things he says, he says them because he's little and he's cute. You'll see what happens when Jamie arrives in 2010 soon, no worries about that. Thank you for the review.**

**A/N: There's a new arrival this chapter. Well, there's two arrivals, but you have to read to find out who. And feel free to leave a review, the door is always open.**

**ooOoo**

_May the good Lord be with you down every road you roam. And may sunshine and happiness surround you when you're far from home. And may you grow to be proud, dignified and true. And do onto others, as you'd have done to you. Be courageous and brave, and in my heart you'll always stay, forever young._

_Forever Young- Rod Stewart_

**ooOoo**

**12****th**** June 2010**

Bridget awoke to a rush of fluid. Luckily she'd been sleeping on towels, after being told that it could be 'any day now'. In anticipation, she'd made arrangements for Alex to stay with a friend for a few days, and had had an overnight bag packed for well over a week.

Once the contractions had progressed to five minutes apart, she drove herself to the hospital, checked herself in, and settled into the bed with _The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe_ for company. Sure, she'd read the book a million and a half times, but it kept her mind occupied, and when you enjoy a book that much, what's one more time?

Sighing, she couldn't help but think of Jamie, and wishing he were there beside her.

"Hi Bridget, how are you feeling?"

"Not bad, just enjoying my book." She set the bookmark in and put it on the bedside table.

"How are your contractions?"

"About three minutes apart."

"Okay, that's good. We should check to see how dilated you are, and then we'll go from there."

She did as she was asked, and waited. "Alright, you're at about 6 centimeters right now. That's good. Are you nervous at all?"

"Not nervous, just a little anxious," she admitted.

"That's perfectly normal, nothing wrong with that," she heard. "I'll be by periodically to check on you, make sure things are still progressing the way they're supposed to, alright?"

"Alright…"

Four hours later, Bridget had progressed well and was waiting for the next step. The nurse asked her if she wanted her husband in the room, not knowing that he'd passed. It was the story she'd fed to everyone who asked, he wasn't there because he'd passed away. No matter how many times she wished she could have Jamie there with her, holding her hand, she knew it would never happen. Jamie was dead. For all intents and purposes, timelines not withstanding, he was dead. She'd seen him hauled off to prison just after telling him she was pregnant. And now he would never see his children grow up. Sure, the Doctor had said he'd bring Jamie back to her, but it had been six months since then, if he were coming back he'd have made an appearance by now.

"Alright, Bridget, focus on my voice," she heard Dr. Livingston tell her. "I want you to push through your fear. You can do it."

Bridget nodded.

"Okay, take a deep breath and push."

Bridget did as she was told, listening to Dr. Livingston count off the seconds till she could rest.

"Good, I want you to take another breath and push again. That's it, very good."

Bridget could only focus on one thing, and it wasn't the labour. They'd had no time for an epidural, and, if she were honest, she didn't really want one. If she'd stayed in Scotland there was no way she'd have had one anyway. Might as well just get it over with.

"That's it, Bridget, good, I can see the head. Push again!"

"I can't do it!" she managed. "I can't!"

"Yes you can, give me another push! Every push is one push closer to meeting your baby. Come on!"

Bridget screwed up her face, took another deep breath and pushed as hard as she could.

"There we go… push push push! Good…"

She heard a gasp.

"There we go! Look who's here!" Dr. Livingston quickly cleaned out the baby's mouth and set her on Bridget's chest.

"Oh my God," Bridget felt tears streaming down her cheeks, leaning back on the pillow. "Oh my God, hi baby…" she whispered.

"Let's go see how much you weigh, hmm?" Dr. Livingston cut the cord and handed the baby to one of the nurses, who promptly placed the baby on the scale.

"Oh good job, Mama, ten pounds!"

Bridget's eyes went wide. "Excuse me? I pushed out _how_ many pounds?"

"She's a good size," the nurse brought over the swaddled baby, readjusting the baby's hat as she stopped by Bridget's bed.

"She?"

"Yes indeed, you have a baby girl…" the nurse placed her in Bridget's arms, smiling. "There you go, Mama."

Bridget smiled, holding her daughter close.

"Hi sweetheart," she kissed the baby's temple. "Oh you're beautiful. You're so beautiful…"

She swore she could almost hear the TARDIS whirring behind her, telling her she'd be alright.

**ooOoo**

Jamie and the Doctor stepped out of the TARDIS into an unfamiliar corridor. Not that that was unusual, but for some reason, Jamie felt odd.

"She's here Doctor, I just dinna ken where…"

They walked in circles till they came upon Alex sitting by the door.

"Daddy!" he ran at Jamie and flung himself into his arms.

"Alex, what's happened?"

"Mummy had a baby!"

"She what?"

"She had a baby!"

"Where is she?" he set Alex back on the floor and took his head. Alex put a finger to his lips to silence him.

"Mummy, lookit I found…"

"Who?" Bridget looked from the window toward the door, still unable to move from the bed.

Jamie walked in the door and gave her a weak smile.

**ooOoo**

Bridget's mouth dropped open.

"Oh my God!" she brought her hand to her mouth and felt her shoulders heave. "Oh my God, you're here!" she held out her arms.

Jamie managed to get to her side, felt his knees buckle, and collapsed into her waiting arms.

"I lay myself at your mercy," he whispered to her. "I'm so sorry, my love. So sorry."

"Don't be sorry, I'm just so happy you're alive!" she sobbed into his hair.

The Doctor cleared his throat and took Alex by the hand. "Come with me, Alexander, I think we should give your mother and father a few minutes alone."

"But Mummy's crying!"

"Those are happy tears," he explained. "Come on, we should go to the gift shop."

"We're gonna get presents for Mummy?"

"Yes, for Mummy, and for the new baby…"

Alex gave a toothy grin and followed the Doctor out the hospital room door as Bridget continued to sob.

"Oh Jamie, I thought you were dead…" she whispered to him.

"I near enough was," he brought his head up and gently kissed her. "Alex told me ye had the babe."

She nodded, cupped her husband's cheek. "Don't move for a second…"

"Why?"

"I want to look at you," she couldn't stop the tears rolling down her cheeks. "You look a mess…" she gently turned his head to one side, and saw his ear lobe torn down the middle. "Good God, you got the pillory, didn't you?"

"Aye I did," he told her. "My back's whipped raw too, but the Doctor was able t' heal those mostly."

"They why is your ear still torn?"

"I didna want him t' heal it," he admitted. "I wanted a reminder o' what I suffered t' get home t' you and Alex and the babe…"

There was a soft knock at the door. "Excuse me…"

Both Bridget and Jamie turned to see the lactation consultant who'd been dispatched shortly after the baby had been taken to the nursery.

"Hi Leslie," Bridget smiled at her.

"I came to see if you wanted to try nursing…" she finally noticed Jamie sitting by Bridget's bed. "And who might you be?"

"Leslie, this is my husband, Jamie." Bridget watched as Leslie took Jamie's offered hand. "He's been stationed overseas, just came back a few minutes ago." She squeezed her eyes shut, hoping Jamie would play along with her story for the time being.

"Pleased to meet you," she smiled at him.

"Aye, an' you as well," he answered, not missing a beat.

"Do you want…"

"I heard you the first time," Bridget answered kindly. "I thought maybe we could let her dad hold her?"

Jamie's eyes went wide. "Her?"

"Yes, we made a girl," Bridget smiled as the baby, still wrapped in a blanket and wearing her pink knitted cap was wheeled into the room, picked up and placed in Bridget's arms.

"And she's really mine?" he said it as though he could not bring himself to believe they had a daughter.

"Yes, you goof! Do you want to hold her?"

"Och, no, I'd break her!" he told her.

"No you won't, just take her." She handed the baby to him and smiled as he cuddled her close, staring at her tiny face.

"I canna believe she's here," he looked to Bridget again. "She's got blue eyes."

"All babies do at first," Bridget answered, looking to Leslie for confirmation. Upon seeing her nod, she smiled to herself.

"I dinna ken if Alex did."

"I'm pretty sure he did, if he was ever a newborn," Bridget chuckled, smiling at her half-assed attempt at joking.

Leslie seemed quite content to let the new parents adjust to their daughter, and left the room just as Alex and the Doctor returned.

"We're back Mummy!"

"What did you find?"

Alex pulled his hand from behind his back. "Pooh Bear!"

"You found Pooh Bear?" she chuckled. "That's very sweet, love. What made you choose him?"

"He insisted we buy it," the Doctor smiled. "Apparently Pooh Bear is a very protective bear, and will keep the baby safe."

"Very perceptive," she nodded. "You know what? She needs a name. We can't call her Baby for the rest of her life."

"Can I name her, Mummy?"

"You can make a suggestion," she told him.

"Okay, um…" Alex put a finger to his mouth. "DeeDee?"

Bridget made a face.

"Maybe not, but good suggestion," Jamie handed the baby to Bridget and put his hands on Alex's shoulders. "What do you think, Mummy?"

"Hmm…" Bridget looked down at the sleeping bundle in her arms. Pushing the knit cap up on the baby's head, she studied her face. "I like Carol."

"Aye, Carol's a very good name."

"I like it too!" Alex chimed in.

"Good, Carol it is then." Bridget smiled at Alex. "Do you know you have a second and third name, Alex?"

"Aye."

"And do you know what they are?"

"Daddy says m' second name is Broderick, an' m' third name is William."

"That's right. Don't you think Carol should have a second and third name as well?"

He nodded.

"Bridget," Jamie interrupted. "I've an idea."

"Oh yeah?" she shifted over on the bed so Alex could sit with her as well. "What's your idea?"

"How do ye like the name Louise?"

"Who's that?"

"I met this man…" he locked eyes with Alex, and turned to the Doctor. "Doctor, would you…"

"Certainly," the Doctor took Alex by the hand, recognizing that Jamie did not want his son hearing about his time in prison. "Are you hungry, Alex?"

"A little."

"Okay, would do you say we go get something to eat?"

"There's money in my purse, Doctor…" Bridget shifted the baby and pointed toward a chair.

"Oh don't fuss, Bridget, it's fine. A sandwich will not set me back too much," he smiled and took Alex out of the room. Whatever the story behind the name Louise was, it was clearly not for little ears.

Once they'd left, Bridget patted the bed for Jamie to sit. "So, you met this man…"

He sat down and took Bridget's free hand. "Aye, he was in prison with me…" and out came the story of the anonymous man who'd lost his wife and son to the childbed fever, and then of him finding his daughter's body on the moors once the smoke had cleared. He then explained that this man had confessed everything, in order for Jamie to come back. He'd had only two last requests: That Jamie's face be the last he saw before he died, and, if Bridget were agreeable, that they name their daughter in tribute to his. Upon Jamie's agreement, the man who ran the prison agreed as well, on two conditions. Yes, Jamie could be present at the man's hanging, but he'd receive one hundred strokes, and his ear nailed to the pillory for his trouble.

"Just so you'd be able to go free."

"Aye, but I'd rather have m' back split open an' m' ear split down the middle than be dead."

"As would I…" Bridget took a deep breath. "Was his daughter's name Louise?"

Jamie nodded.

"Well then, her second name can't be anything but Louise." Bridget ran her tongue along her front teeth. "What about her third name?"

"If it's alright with you, can we call her Victoria?"

"Who's Victoria?"

"She was this young lassie who traveled wi' me an' the Doctor."

"Oh yeah? How did you meet her?"

"Her father was killed an' she had no where t' go."

"That's unfortunate," she wasn't trying to be rude, at that point she was just tired, but still truly interested in hearing about Victoria.

"Aye, he was killed by the Daleks."

"Daleks?"

"Best way t' describe is… I think the Doctor said pepper pots?"

"Oh yes, the Doctor told me about them. Always yelling exterminate, exterminate, blah blah blah yada yada yada, exterminate again."

"Well, the Doctor said it would be alright for her t' travel with us, and…" he stopped.

"Yes?"

"I sort of fancied her."

"Really?"

"Aye, she would be what ye call my first love."

"I thought the girl by the river when you were sixteen was."

"I know now it wasna more than infatuation," he looked down, seemingly blushing.

"Right…" Bridget placed baby Carol back in her bassinet and laid her hands across her stomach. "Did Victoria love you?"

"I dinna ken, I never had the chance t' ask her."

"Why?"

"Well she wasna like you or Zoe… I did tell ye about Zoe, aye?"

"No, but go on."

"Well, Victoria didna like the monsters an' beasties we encountered an' decided t' leave. She was always scared, an' ye know as well as I do that no one should ever have t' live their life scared."

Bridget nodded. "But you never told her that you loved her?"

Jamie shook his head. "But she was a very sweet lass."

"And Carol is a sweet baby."

"So, can I ask again, is it alright t' use Victoria for her third name?"

"Yeah, it's fine." She smiled, put a hand on Jamie's cheek. "You don't think I'd pitch a fit and accuse you of anything just because you asked me to call our daughter after a friend of yours, do you?"

"No, but I dinna ken how you'd react t' the fact that I loved her."

"Oh Jamie, please, I'm not the jealous type," she leaned forward and kissed his cheek. "Who's Zoe?"

"Did someone mention Zoe?" the Doctor and Alex returned with simple ham and cheese sandwiches.

"Aye, do ye mind telling her about Zoe?"

"Certainly," he passed a sandwich to Jamie and one to Bridget before explaining that they'd met Zoe on a space station called the Wheel. She was a small little thing about 5 feet tall, and she and Jamie had had quite a rough start.

"Well she was making fun o' my kilt!"

"She'd never seen one before, Jamie," the Doctor smiled patiently. "You weren't used to the idea of women wearing trousers before, either."

"Aye, but I kept m' mouth shut about it."

"Either way, she stowed away in a box inside the TARDIS and traveled with us until both Jamie and Zoe were sent back to their own time lines."

"Who made you send them away?" Alex asked.

"Well, I…" the Doctor saw Bridget's eyes go wide as she stared at the door. "Bridget, what's the matter?" He followed Bridget's eyes toward the little window in the door to see a man with steel grey eyes and a weathered face staring back at them.

"Jamie…"

She didn't even need to finish the sentence. Jamie immediately went around the bed and opened the door, blocking the entrance with his body.

"What are ye doing here?"

"I came to see my grandchild."

Bridget nearly choked on her own vomit.


	31. We Are

**ninewood: Oh no doubt she will, because she's Daddy's girl. And you're most welcome, it seemed that she named herself, and I just had to keep it that way, because you've given me a lot of help with this story, and I can't thank you enough.**

**Garden Gnomie: You'll see what happens with that. Thank you for the review**

**A/N: I know a lot of people went 'OH MY GOD NO!' at the end of that last chapter, but not to worry, just wait and see. And feel free to leave a review, the door is always open.**

**ooOoo**

_Keep watching from your picket fence, you keep talking but it makes no sense. You say we're not responsible but we are, we are. You wash your hands, you come out clean, you fail to recognize the enemy's within. You say we're not responsible, but we are, we are. We are._

_We Are- Anna Johnsson_

**ooOoo**

"No chance, get out."

"And who are you then?" Bridget's father, Anthony snarled at the Highlander. She'd told Jamie about him numerous times. He'd always had constant bloodshot eyes, a cigarette in his mouth, and a presence that could still make her shake if he ever entered a room.

"Bridget's husband," Jamie's face was hard as stone. "And I ken who ye are. Yer not stepping foot in this room."

"We'll see about that," he pushed past Jamie and stopped, staring at Bridget lying in the hospital bed, who could only stare back in turn.

"I don't want you in here," she spat at him.

"Like you'll stop me," he grinned at him. "Come on, missy, where's this bastard child you're about to straddle me with?"

"She is not a bastard, Anthony," Bridget kept her voice even. "I am married, as I'm sure my husband just told you, because I heard him say so. Now, I am going to ask you one more time. Leave."

He took a step toward her.

"You don't deserve to see her, now get out."

"You'll not speak to me that way, I'm your father," he snarled, curling his fists but not moving from his spot.

Jamie moved toward Bridget, standing at the head of her bed. The Doctor pulled Alex into his lap and did his best to distract him.

"No you're not," her eyes locked with his. "A father does not climb into his daughter's bed at night and use her as some sort of harlot."

"What?"

"You fucked me almost every night, Anthony. I'm your daughter, and you treated me like your whore."

"You liked it," he taunted, crossing his arms and leaning forward, baring yellowed teeth.

Jamie cringed, gritting his teeth.

Bridget gripped his arm in silent reassurance, shaking her head at Anthony.

"You lying bitch! You liked it and you know it!"

Bridget turned back to face her father, her eyes blank and her face set. "No I did not, Anthony. Never. Now, I'll only say this one more time. I am asking you politely to leave. Please."

"You really think you can make me leave?"

Jamie had evidently had enough. He did not want Anthony anywhere near Bridget or their children. A hand on his belt, he withdrew the dirk and held it to Anthony's throat.

"This says I can."

The Doctor's eyes went wide, his hands over Alex's ears. The boy had his eyes squeezed shut. If they couldn't get Alex out of the room to protect him from any harsh language, this was the next best thing.

"Now really, Jamie, there's no need for bloodshed."

"Doctor, I ken ye mean well, but stay out o' this."

"But do you really want to kill someone in front of Alex and the baby?"

Jamie slowly lowered the dirk and replaced it in his belt.

Anthony's mouth curled into a horrible smile.

"Ha, I knew it, too much of a pussy to kill anyone."

Still not saying anything, Jamie grabbed the man's shoulders and kneed him in the nether regions, sending him to the floor with a groan that caused Alex's eyes to pop open.

"Yay Daddy!"

"Oops," Jamie turned around, making sure Alex had safely made it from the window to Bridget's hospital bed. "Now then sir, I'll ask you one more time, to get out of my wife's hospital room."

"Not… until… I… see… my… grandchild…"

"You don't deserve to see her."

"Her?"

"Oh that's right, your overwhelming stupidity makes you hard of hearing. Yes, her." Bridget fought to keep herself under control.

"Well if she's anything like her mother, she's worthless."

"No she isna," Jamie growled.

Hearing enough, Alex jumped off the bed, ran to the door and kicked Anthony in the shin as hard as he could.

"Alex come back here!" Jamie shouted.

"Ye dinna talk bout my mummy that way!" the little boy cried as Jamie picked him up and set him back on the bed. "Daddy, no one talks about Mummy that way."

"Aye, no one should."

"Or Carol either. She's just a baby!"

"I agree."

"You're all crazy!" Anthony shouted, picking himself up.

"Better crazy than a rapist!" Bridget shouted as Anthony moved toward her, ready to strike. "Don't you _dare_ touch me!"

At just the right time the baby let out a screech. Rolling over and sitting up so that her back was to her father, Bridget picked the bundle up and cradled her to her breast.

"You made my sister cry!" Alex screamed. "Yer a monster! Daddy, make him leave! Make him leave!" He curled under Bridget's arm and put his head against her side. "Why won't he leave, Mummy? I don't like him."

"If I might," the Doctor interrupted, folding his hands and standing between Anthony and Jamie. "Jamie, I do believe this has gone on long enough. Both Alex and the baby are upset and I don't think this is doing Bridget any good."

Jamie took a deep breath, kept his eyes on the Doctor. "Aye Doctor, I think you're right."

"And as for you," the Doctor turned to face Anthony, drawing himself up to his full height and his hands on his own lapels. "Don't you think you've done enough damage already? Bridget has come a long way from the last time she saw you…"

"That doesn't change the fact that you're protecting a dirty whore!"

"It does not matter how many times you say it, that does not make it true!" the Doctor snapped. "Now, she has experienced things that should have destroyed her, but she has turned into a very strong and independent woman despite the damage you inflicted," he paused for breath. "Now then sir, if you have any respect for anyone at all, I suggest you leave."

Anthony grit his teeth, looked from Bridget to Jamie and back to the Doctor. "Fine. I'll go, she's not worth the trouble. Bridget..."

She didn't look at him.

"I wash my hands of you."

Still she said nothing.

Once the door slammed shut, her shoulders tensed. Placing the baby back in the bassinet, she said nothing, locking eyes with the Doctor.

"Ah, come on Alex, let's go see some of Carol's new friends."

"But…"

"It's alright Alex, ye can trust the Doctor," Jamie smiled.

"Do you trust the Doctor, Daddy?"

"With m' life."

"Yes, and your father with mine. We could even help to name them, wouldn't that be fun?"

"Yeah!" Alex bounded out into the hallway, the Doctor following close and shutting the door behind them.

Relieved that Alex was safely out the door and Carol settled in the bassinet, Bridget put a hand over her eyes, and her resolve broke.

"I just had a baby, I didn't do anything to deserve that," she swallowed a sob.

Jamie carefully climbed on to the bed beside her and carefully hugged her close.

"It's my fault."

"No it isna, love."

"Yes it is!" she followed each word with a light punch to his chest.

He stroked her arm, taking a deep breath. "Why do ye say it's yer fault?"

"Because I didn't stop him. The first time he climbed into my bed I figured that's how all fathers acted with their daughters." She shook her head, burying her face in his shirt to hide the tears. "God, I'm such an _idiot_!"

"Ye were thirteen years old…"

"Thirteen or not I should have said something, and I didn't..." she sobbed into his chest, shaking so badly he could only hold her tighter. "I didn't…."

He kissed the top of her head, whispering soft Gaelic in her ear.

"Hush, dinna fash," she heard him whisper. "He will never hurt ye again."

"You need to make it okay, Jamie. Please, make it okay!"

"I will, love. I will, I promise…" he whispered to her again, keeping an eye on Carol, who was looking at them from her bassinet. "She's lookin' at us, ye ken."

Bridget sniffled and turned her head. A sob turned into a laugh as she turned her head to see Carol's big blue eyes looking out at her new sorroundings. "She is…" she smiled. "You know what, Jamie?"

"Aye?"

"I wish I'd had someone like you growing up," she titled her head to look at him. "My mother was too scared to do anything and I was too scared to tell anyone else." She nodded to Leslie who had come in to make sure Carol was all right and took her back to the nursery, wheeling the bassinet out and shutting the door behind her.

"Ye mean like Maggie coming t' us when she was attacked?" Jamie asked once she'd left.

"Yes, exactly like that. I had to be the person I never had for her. I had to be the one to tell her she didn't have to be scared, that she could say something. It's hard to say those things with conviction when you could never do it yourself." She settled back in his arms again, now for more as a cuddle than a protective embrace.

"Aye well, do ye ken something?"

"What?"

"Yer the bravest woman I've ever met."

"What? I'm not brave at all."

"Aye, ye are, my love, ye are! Think about all the things ye've done since I've known ye. Ye got into a police box an' traveled wi' two strange men an' seen things that probably dinna even exist yet, and ye've faced the beasties that live in nightmares too."

She smiled and untangled himself from his arms. Her hand traveled to her breast, her face pinched in pain. "Damn it!"

"What?"

"Carol hasn't wanted to nurse yet, and my breasts hurt something fierce," she reached over to the table beside her bed and grabbed the ridiculously shaped, rubber contraption known as a breast pump.

Jamie watched in what seemed like revolted fascination as Bridget undid the buttons on her hospital gown, massaging her breasts and placing the suction cup over her nipple. Squeezing to encourage the milk to flow, she let out a sigh and tilted her head back as the first few drops found themselves in a newborn bottle attached to the bottom of the pump. Once she'd done the same to the other side, she replaced the gown over her chest and looked at Jamie.

"I used t' dream about that," he admitted.

"What? Me using a breast pump? Do they even have those in 1754?"

"Nae, not quite, but I'd dream about ye carrying the bairn in yer belly, an' your breasts swelling wi' milk, just waiting till the bairn arrived. I'm nae a prayin' man, ye know that, but most every day I'd hope t' God that you an' Alex an' the bairn were safe. That I'd done right in sending ye back."

"You did do right," she answered. "We're safe because of you, Jamie. And don't ever doubt there were nights where I dreamt of you too. And the night she first kicked, Jamie, I could swear I could almost feel your hand on my belly…"

"Hush, I wish I could have felt it…" there were tears rolling down his cheeks.

"I could almost swear you did. Sometimes I could feel your touch, the memory of your fingers trailing down my body, making love to me because you weren't physically there."

"Mebbe I did. There were some nights I swear I could feel you as well."

"That's good," she could feel her body tingling at the thought of Jamie's hands on her again. "What else did you think about?"

"I thought about how much I missed you," he placed a hand over her slack belly, not really moving. "You were an' still are m' life. I dinna think I'd have made it through without your… uh…" he stumbled, looking for an appropriate word.

"My what?"

"I dinna ken how t' explain it. It's like ye were there, but ye weren't."

"My ghost? My memory?" she offered.

"Aye, it's like yer spirit was always there. No matter how bad it got, I could feel you there with me."

Bridget nodded. With his arms around her, she'd never felt so safe and secure. He was her rock, her last link to sanity at the moment, and that was really what she needed.

"Tell me Bridget, if I hadna come back, would ye have married again?"

"Never," she whispered.

"Not even if he was a good man?"

"No."

"And why not? Wouldn't you have needed someone?"

"Perhaps, but you were the only one who could ever be my other half," she explained. "I can't imagine being with anyone else."

"Just as yer mine," he bent and gently kissed her.

"I am?"

"Aye, I never knew I was only half a man until I met you."

She smiled, touched by his honesty. "I never knew I was worthy of love until you needed me."

"Eh?"

"After Georgia died, you needed me to love you when no one else could."

"Aye, an' I didna want anyone else."

"But you wanted me."

"Aye, I did."

"Why?"

"I just told you," he answered. "You are the missing half o' my soul. I never had that wi' Georgia."

"Nothing went right, Jamie. After that incident in the TARDIS I reacted too quickly. I regretted leaving you, I really did. I wept every day, until the Doctor came back for me."

"But you came back t' me, an' when I needed ye the most. Even if I dinna ken it at the time."

"I did, and I've never regretted it. You healed me, Jamie. You taught me that I was worthy of being loved, that I really wasn't damaged goods. And with _him_ back…" she said it as though it would a dirty word. "It just feels like I'm back to square one."

"Nae, yer not. Yer still the same woman who just pushed out a ten pound bairn all on her own!"

Bridget chuckled. "Yeah, and reading a book at the same time."

"Ye were nae screaming?" his eyes went wide.

"Nope," she popped the 'p'. "If Dr. Livingston, that's the doctor who helped with the delivery, was calm, then I was calm, and there wasn't a need to worry. Besides, it wasn't the contractions I had a hard time with, it was the pushing."

'Och, see, I should have been here for that. I coulda held yer hand or summat."

"If you had you would have ended up with broken fingers."

"It would have been worth it," he insisted. "An' I'd already had m' fingers broken, what's one more time?"

"From what?"

"One o' the guards at the prison," he said, matter of factly. "He wasna impressed that he'd miss a chance t' get me in the hangman's noose. I made life difficult for 'im, ye ken, an' he wanted revenge."

"That's barbaric!"

"Aye, but the Doctor was able t' fix it."

"Which hand was it?" she drew a design with her index finger on his chest.

"M' left hand," he brought his arm around and showed it to her, his wedding ring still proudly displayed.

Smiling, she picked up his hand, curled his fingers around hers, and kissed them. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Nor I you," he smiled and kissed her hair.

And they lay there together, lost in each other's arms, barely cognizant of the world around them.

He'd come back to her, their family restored, and that was all that mattered.


	32. All You Did Was Save My Life

**Garden Gnomie: Huge question? I'm not sure what you mean. Please explain?**

**ninewood: More Doctor, more Alex, more Jamie, and more Bridget, and more baby Carol. All together and having a grand old time. Thank you so much for all your help.**

**A/N: Enjoy the little family moments, and please feel free to leave a review, the door is always open.**

**ooOoo**

_Tried to run but I couldn't move, well I paid for these concrete shoes, but like the singer that sings the blues, you saw hope in the hopeless… I'm not dying. All you did was save my life, pull me out of that flat line, put the heartbeat back inside.. I'm not dying. All you did was get me through, I owe every breath to you. Heart and soul unparalyzed, all you did was save my life. _

_All You Did Was Save My Life- Our Lady Peace_

**ooOoo**

The two of them soon heard a knock at the door. The Doctor slowly opened the door and peaked inside.

"Is it alright to come back in now?"

"Yes Doctor, it's fine," Bridget wiped her nose with the tissue in her hand and smiled as the Doctor and Alex came back into the room. "Did you two have a good time?" she asked her son as he climbed on to the bed beside her.

"Yeah, Carol has lots of friends!"

"She does?"

"Yeah, and there was this baby boy who looked at her."

She didn't have the heart to tell him that newborn babies couldn't see clearly, not till they were about three months old.

"What's his name, then?"

"Jamie!"

"What? I'd never hurt a bairn," he insisted. "I just want to know what his name is."

Bridget couldn't stop her laughter. She knew he'd never lay a hand on a child, no matter if he looked at his children. Still, the sentiment behind his 'protective father' persona was nice at any rate.

Alex turned to the Doctor. "What did we name him, Doctor?"

"His name was… Joel, I think."

"Yeah, his name was Joel."

"Oh," Bridget made a surprised face. "We best watch out for Joel then."

"Aye."

Alex came over to the bed and hoisted himself up, cuddling close to Bridget. "Are you okay, Mummy?"

"Yes sweetie, Mummy's fine." She answered., patting him on the knee.

"Is the bad man coming back?"

"No I don't think so," she leaned forward and kissed his cheek.

"He was mean, Mummy," Alex told her matter of factly. "He said mean things about you."

"Yes he did," she answered, patiently waiting to see what other obvious things her son would tell her.

"Who was he? I don't like him."

Bridget looked to Jamie, setting her jaw. He nodded in response to her unspoken question, but how to explain it to a four year old?

"He was Mummy's dad," she told him. She'd not tell him that Anthony was, for all intents and purposes, his granddad. That would just confuse him. But to say that he was her father, while giving him no emotional connection to Alex, would suffice for the time being.

"But daddies don't say those things."

Alex had only ever known Jamie and Gordon in terms of father figures. He saw two men who were kind and chivalrous, who were brave and caring, and would do anything to protect their families. He'd never seen Jamie raise a hand to either her or Georgia before her, nor Gordon against Cora. And she knew that both men would rather carve their own hearts out with a dirk then utter a foul word against their wives. Whereas if he were around Anthony, things would be very different.

"Well he wasna a good daddy," Jamie offered in explanation. "He used t' hurt Mummy and make her feel sad."

Alex's eyes bugged wide. "What did he do, Mummy?"

"He used to hit me."

"An' he dinna say sorry?"

"Nope, my dad was never sorry," she told him.

"But Daddy says ye dinna ever hit a lady…"

"And Daddy is absolutely right," she reassured him. "Which is what makes Daddy such a good daddy. He'd never hurt any of us."

"Quite right," Jamie confirmed. "I'd never hurt any of you. Ye ken that, aye?"

"Aye," Alex answered. "Who do ye love more? Me or Carol?"

Jamie couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Dinna be daft…"

"Now Jamie," the Doctor cleared his throat. "This is a perfectly normal question. Why not tell him the truth?"

Bridget smiled. "I love you both equally, Alex."

"But I'm too big to love."

"Oh no you're not," she held her arms out, waited for him to crawl over to her for a hug. "Never. No matter how big you get, Alex, I'll love you. I promise. Both you and Carol to the end of the universe and back."

"An' Daddy too?"

"Aye, Daddy will love you that much, and I love Daddy that much too."

"But Carol comes from ye, Mummy, an' I dinna."

"Oh baby, that doesn't matter," she kissed his head as Jamie wrapped a blanket around the little boy's shoulders. "You're still my son."

"Alex, tell me this," Jamie knealt on the floor and brought himself to eye level with the four year old. "Would Mummy have taken ye with her if she dinna love ye more than life itself?"

"No…"

"An' would she have married me if she dinna love me?"

"No…"

"Exactly," she agreed. "But I do love you both and I love Carol, too."

"What about the Doctor?" Alex asked.

"Oh I love the Doctor too," Bridget looked over Alex's head and smiled at the Doctor, who was still sitting by the window. "The Doctor is a very good friend, and you can love your friends just as much as your family," she rubbed Alex's hair. "There's room in my heart for all of you."

**ooOoo**

Time seemed to pass slowly. The four of them sat together, chatting and laughing at past experiences and planning for the future. One thing they knew for sure was that they needed to move.

Neither she nor Alex were happy in Ottawa (Alex moreso because of the teasing he endured), and Bridget was too close to her father. If he ever found out where she was living, he'd continued to insist on seeing Alex and Carol. If Bridget had anything to say about it, she was never going to let that monster near her family.

They had definitely decided on Scotland, but the question of Edinburgh or Inverness remained. Edinburgh was a busy, metropolitan city, whereas Inverness had grown, but still moved at a pace that everyone could live comfortably with. Plus it was close to where Jamie had grown up, and where his estate had been, and Alex had loved the laid back atmosphere of a smaller town.

So, it was decided among the three adults and one child present that, as soon as Bridget and Carol were discharged, they'd leave Ottawa behind and settle in Inverness.

"We'd have to go back to the townhouse first though," Bridget told them. "All my important documents are there. Our passports, Alex's birth certificate, the lease on the property, not to mention the will and last testament."

"Ye have yer will already?"

"More's the fool who's not prepared for any and all circumstances," Bridget offered in explanation. "I can update it and change it if need be…" she took a breath. "Plus I need to quit my job, or ask for a transfer, one of the two, and I need to withdraw Alex from school in Ottawa and find another in Inverness…"

"Calm down Bridget, if we canna go straight away, we can wait a few months."

"But I dinna want t' go back t' school, Daddy," Alex insisted. "The kids are mean an' tease me for wearin' m' kilt an' talking funny."

"Alex, you're almost finished the school year. Remember, it's the twelveth of June, and the year finishes on the twenty-fifth. That's only thirteen more days."

"But it hurts m' feelings," he insisted. "Mrs. Quinn has said t' them t' stop it, but they dinna listen!"

"Kids are mean sometimes, _mo chridhe_," Bridget acknowledged. "But, when the thirteen days are finished, I'm going to go to the headmaster and tell him that we are moving, okay? And we'll find you a school in Scotland."

"We're all going t' Scotland, right Mummy?"

"That's right, you, me, Daddy and Carol."

"But Carol is too little t' ride in a plane!"

Bridget put her head in her hand and giggled. The Doctor bent to Alex's ear and whispered something, and in hearing whatever it was the Doctor said, the little boy's face lit up. "Oh yeah."

Leslie came back, wheeling Carol into the room, who was now smacking her lips and wailing.

"She's quite hungry, Bridget," Leslie informed her. "Would you perhaps like to try nursing her?"

"I'm surprised she hadn't started screaming for it earlier. Alright, let's try it," Bridget sat up and motioned to Alex to move off the bed. She undid her gown and took Carol in her arms. With Leslie's help (and the Doctor, Jamie, and Alex's backs all turned), they succeeded in getting the baby to latch on.

Bridget let out a groan and winced.

"Is it supposed to hurt this much?"

"Just like you're going to teach her how to walk and talk, you've got to teach her how to eat. Here, try this…" Leslie maneuvered the baby, having to detach her for only a moment, and settled her again. "How about now?"

"A little better, but how do I stop her from biting?"

"Make sure she latches on properly every time," Leslie offered. "New mothers often make the mistake of getting the baby to latch only at the nipple instead of the whole areola, and if baby is just at the nipple, that's what hurts."

"Okay…" Carol stopped sucking. Seeing the baby laying still, Leslie helped to sit her up, positioned Bridget's hand under her chin, and instructed her to gently pat her back until she burped.

"Don't worry about her not eating a lot just yet," Leslie told her. "Your milk won't come in for a couple of days, and the colustrum won't feed her completely. Best thing to do would be to supplement with formula until the milk comes in."

By this point, the Doctor, Jamie, and Alex had all turned back around, the Doctor offering to step out of the room if she felt uncomfortable nursing in front of him.

"No no, Doctor, it's fine, you can stay…"

"Is she finished, Mummy?" Alex watched in facination, staring at his sister's face. "She pretty."

"Yes she is," she said in answer to both statements. Just as soon as she'd answered, Carol burped, sending spit-up all over Bridget's hand.

"Is she sick?"

"No son, it just means she ate too much," Jamie answered. He wiped at Bridget's free hand with the nursing blanket, smiling as he did so. "Ye dinna think she'll nurse the other side, Mummy?" In Alex's prescene, they'd taken to calling each other Mummy and Daddy, if only to set a good example for him.

"No, not yet," she was sure of it. "She still seems pretty sleepy. Not surprising, considering the day we've had."

"When do you think you'll be discharged?" the Doctor asked, sitting on the end of the bed.

"In a day or so. I think they want to make sure she'll take to my breast and that she's not sick."

"But she isna more than six hours old, how could she be sick?"

"Babies are given all sorts of shots the first two days after birth," Leslie chimed in as she swaddled the baby again. "To prevent infection and other such things."

"Mmm hmm, an' suppose I'm no' comfortable wi' my child having all these things, bein' poked wi' needles and such."

"No need to get so aggressive, Jamie," Bridget grabbed a hold of his hand and stroked near the base of his thumb. "It's just what happens now a days. There's nothing to worry about."

But the expression on his face told her he was plenty worried.

"We'll talk about it later, don't worry," she brought his hand to her lips, kissed his fingers lightly.

Smiling, Leslie wheeled the sleepy baby out of the room and back to the nursery. Alex and the Doctor stood by the door, holding it open and waving good night as Leslie walked down the hall.

Once Carol had been removed, another nurse, Bridget did not know her name, came in and informed them at visiting hours were over.

"But I dinna want t' leave my Mummy!" Alex protested.

"Don't worry, honey, Carol and I will be home before you know it," Bridget smiled at him.

"But I canna sleep at home alone."

"Daddy will be there, remember?" she brought him back up on to the bed. "And Daddy's never been there before, so you'll have to show him where everything is, alright?"

"But I dinna know the way home."

"I can help you get home," the Doctor offered. "I helped you and Mummy choose the place, and I helped you decorate your bedroom. Do you still have that picture of that bear cub pinned up?"

"Yeah, I do," Alex waited till Jamie stood, and held his arms up. Jamie set the young boy on his hip, and let him lean to kiss Bridget good night. "Daddy, will you read me Winnie the Pooh?"

Jamie looked from Bridget to the Doctor.

"Your father seems quite tired, perhaps I could read it to you?"

"Okay," he answered.

Jamie blew his wife a kiss, and went out the door with Alex.

The Doctor approached her bed, bent, and hugged her close.

"Well done, my dear," he whispered, kissing her cheek.

She smiled, wrapped one arm around his shoulders. "Thank you Doctor."

He knew she meant it for more than just the compliment.


	33. Feel It Turn

**Garden Gnomie: They'll figure that out soon, you'll see.**

**ninewood: Hmm... I wonder as well (smiles). Thank you so much for all your help with this chapter. I hope you enjoy this one.**

**A/N: School talks, report cards and children, oh my! No warnings this time, just enjoy the chapter, and feel free to leave a review, the door is always open.**

**ooOoo**

_Cut steel wired into water, fixed leak circumnavigate. Old men see your sons and daughters no longer, no longer hesitate._

_Feel It Turn- Great Big Sea_

**ooOoo**

**25****th**** June 2010**

Bridget walked in to the Headmaster's office, the carseat on her arm, where Carol slept soundly. Jamie had decided to stay at home and wait for Alex, as Bridget thought it best to speak to the man on her own, plus it would be a nice change for Alex to see Daddy waiting for him after school instead of Mummy.

"So, Mrs. McCrimmon," Gerald Daniels, Headmaster, looked over Alex's school file. "I understand that you'll be moving soon, is that correct?"

"Yes very much so," Bridget answered. "Which is why I came to talk to you. I need you to transfer Alexander's permanent record to the school he'll be enrolling in."

"That is absolutely no problem, you'll just need to give me the name of the school and the address."

She gave the name, and waited for the man's reaction.

"I'm not familiar with such a school. Where is it located?"

"Inverness," Bridget answered, crossing one leg over the other and resting her hand on her knee.

"Inverness? That's quite a long way. Do you have family there?"

"My husband is originally from Inverness," she offered in explanation. "He misses the Highland air, as he tells me. Wants to move back home. We would have done it sooner had I not been heavily pregnant."

"Of course, no problem," he waited as she gave him the address. "Are there any other reasons you want to take Alex out of school?"

"Well there is the matter of the constant bullying."

Daniels raised an eyebrow. "I wasn't aware of any bullying."

"He was constantly teased for the fact that his father was dead. Well… he was overseas and was reported dead. I only recently found out he was captured and nearly tortured to death."

"Oh dear."

"Then there was the matter of Alex wearing a kilt, which is part of his Scottish upbringing."

"I didn't realize you were Scottish."

"That isn't the point," Bridget leaned forward. "The point is that my son was constantly bullied and no one I talked to would do anything about it."

"I'm very sorry, Mrs. McCrimmon."

"Tell me this, Mr. Daniels. If you promote diversity and a safe place where everybody belongs, why was my son getting off the school bus every day crying that he didn't want to be different and 'talk weird', his words, not mine, anymore?"

"That should never have happened," Daniels agreed. "And I must say, I apologize once again."

"Apologies are all well and good, Mr. Daniels, but the question is, what are you going to do about it?"

"I promise, as an educator, I will take the necessary steps to see that things change."

"Well that's great, especially since we won't be here to see it," Bridget stood, picked up the carseat and set it on her arm. "Thank you for taking the time to see me today, and please let me know if you need any other information concerning Alex's records," she put her hand on the doorknob, pulled the door open. "Good day to you."

**ooOoo**

"So, how did th' meeting go?"

"Same old bureaucratic bullshit."

"In other words, they're not going t' do anything bout it?"

"That's the impression I got, but he tried to appease me by saying he'll try to do something to fix it." She rolled her eyes as she bent down and lifted Carol out of her carseat. She still seemed fully full from her earlier feeding, and she was content to sleep, at least for a little while. "Although I sincerely doubt it, to be honest."

"Ye canna be so cynical."

"Don't you preach to me about being cynical!"

Alex poked his head in the kitchen. "Are ye fighting?"

"No, we're just having a discussion," Bridget turned around, the baby in her arms. "I'm just going to put Carol down for a bit and then I want to see your report card."

"But I dinna have it."

"You don't have it? Why not?"

"Mrs. Quinn said it goes in the mail."

Bridget raised an eyebrow. "Are you fibbing, Alex?"

"No…" he insisted.

"Every other time you've had a report card come home it was in your backpack. Why don't you have it now?"

Alex hung his head.

"When I come back from putting Carol to bed I'd like to see it, please and thank you," Bridget told him.

When she came back a few minutes later, Alex stood by the kitchen table with an envelope in his hand.

Smiling, Bridget took the envelope from him, opened it, and read it over.

"There's nothing to worry about on here, love," she assured him, opening her arms for a hug. Seeing her face, Alex climbed into her lap and looked it over with her. "Look, Mrs. Quinn said you're a very good listener and a good worker, she just thinks you need to concentrate a bit more, and work on your adding and colouring between the lines. That's all." She kissed his temple.

"I thought it was something bad," he admitted.

"No, if it were something bad, she'd have called me and said she'd like to speak to me," Bridget patted the little boy's knee. "Now, off you go, get your pajamas on and brush your teeth."

"But it's nae 8:00!"

"And your bedtime is at 8:30, off you go," she smirked.

Alex did as he was told, leaving Bridget alone with her husband for the first time in nearly two weeks.

"How is it do ye suppose that our daughter is nae so fussy? When Alex was born I dinna sleep for near enough two months."

"I guess she's just a very content baby," Bridget shrugged. "She's clothed, she's fed, if anything were wrong, she'd let us know."

They paused, listening for any sign of Carol fussing.

"See?" she got up and taped Alex's report card to the fridge. As she did so, he came back into the kitchen, dressed in his pajamas and grinning like the cat that ate the canary.

"All ready for bed?" Bridget asked.

"Yes Mama."

"Did you brush your teeth?"

He nodded.

"Let me smell…" she bent down to Alex's level, covered her mouth, and waited as he drew in a big breath and exhaled.

She smiled. "Good job!"

"Told ya!" Alex beamed. "All clean."

"Go off to bed and I'll come tuck you in."

"Okay…" he smiled and went off down the hallway toward the stairs.

"Bridget?"

"Hmm?"

"You're a good mum, ye know that?"

"I don't think so."

Jamie's mouth hung open.

"Don't look at me like that. I love children, I always have, although I was always terrified I'd not be a good mum."

"Och, how can ye say that when ye have proof right in front o' ye as t' how good a mother ye are?" He pointed toward the children's bedrooms.

"Just because I produced children doesn't mean I'm a natural. I don't want to do the same thing my mother did. I don't want to be like her. I don't want to stand by and not do anything…"

Jamie pulled her to him.

"Hush now an' kiss me."

She obliged, a small tear forming in the corner of her eye.

"What's this?" Jamie caught it on his finger. "Why are ye crying?"

"I don't know," she smiled as another tear fell. "I really don't."

"Then dinna fash. I'm just as unsure about bein' a parent as ye are."

"But you raised Alex."

"Aye, because there wasn't anyone else. I had t' do it no matter what."

"So we're just makin' it up as we go along?"

"Yeah, basically. It's all we can do."

Jamie kissed her again, smiling to himself.

"I'm going to go tuck Alex into bed and check on Carol," she pulled away, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

"An' I'll finish the dishes," he offered.

Bridget's eyes went wide.

"Just for that, I love you even more."

"What, ye've never had a man do dishes before?"

"Not willingly!"

Jamie laughed.

"Well, my mother always said that a man should do the dishes without bein' asked."

"Smart woman, your mum. How old were you when she told you that?"

"Eight…"

She tapped the end of his nose and went to tuck the children into bed. Once Alex was squared away, she saw Carol awake and fussing, She put a finger to the baby's lips, to see if she were hungry. Upon seeing that she was not, Bridget set the baby on the change table and checked her diaper.

"Oh, that's what's wrong…" she changed Carol into a fresh diaper and kissed the soft tummy. She smelled of powder and her own baby scent, and had chosen that precise moment to sneeze. "Oh bless you, Bug Bug!"

Carol gurgled.

"Alright sweetie, you and Mummy will have a cuddle, how's that sound?" she sat down in the rocking chair in the nursery, holding Carol close and singing a lullaby.

Once the baby had fallen back asleep, Bridget came back out to the kitchen to see Jamie with his head in his hands resting on the edge of the sink.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry," he mumbled.

"For what?"

Jamie raised his head to stare at her, and she realized he'd been crying.

"For havin' t' do this all on yer own."

"What do you mean? I'm not on my own, you're here."

"Aye, I meant before. I ken I told ye an' Alex t' do wi' the Doctor, but I should have gone wi' ye."

"Jamie, you wouldn't have been shot!"

"Aye, I ken. I saw some horrible things, an' if I'd only gone wi' ye…"

"But you're here now, that's what matters."

"But still…"

"Please, you did everything right."

"I wasna here when Alex was being bullied…" it was as though he hadn't heard her at all.

"Kids are mean and jealous, Jamie. It's just what they do. Don't trouble yourself about it, it's been dealt with, for the most part." Sure, for the most part, she thought to herself. A half assed promise that they'd do something to prevent it from happening to another child was not enough. It would never be enough.

"An' I wasna here when ye were pregnant. I shoulda been here t' take care o' you."

"Don't beat yourself up for it."

"How can I not? _I wasna here_!" he slapped the counter, struggling not to lose his temper completely.

"Shh, you'll wake the kids!"

He bit his tongue and lowered his voice. "I wasna here an' I should have been. I feel awful."

Bridget put a hand to his cheek. "Jamie, we've been over this time and time again. There was nothing you could have done differently if you didn't want to end up dead at my feet."

"Aye, but I still feel like I failed ye."

Bridget shook her head. "No… no you didn't. What can I do to help you understand that? You did everything right. I don't begrudge you anything."

"I dinna ken. I feel so hollow inside. Like I'm dead."

Bridget wrapped her arms around her husband's middle and gently laid her head on his chest. "Nope, not dead. Your heart is still beating a steady rhythm."

"Aye, but I need t' feel alive again. T' know that this isna a dream."

"I can help with that…" she tilted her head to look at him, a mischievous gleam in her eye.

"Eh?"

She took his head and led him out of the kitchen.

"Where are we going?"

"Bedroom."

His grip on her hand suddenly tightened as he stopped in his tracks.

"What's the matter?"

"We canna. It's too soon after the bairn."

"We can. Tonight is all about you."

"But I canna give ye anything in return."

"I don't want anything in return," she insisted, squeezing his hand in reassurance and leading him to the bedroom.


	34. Schizophrenic Conversations

**ninewood: (huge grin). I don't know a man who WOULDN'T love it. **

**Garden Gnomie: Well they haven't moved yet, Carol is still too young. Glad I could answer your question.**

**A/N: This chapter contains scenes of a sexual nature, nudity, and coarse language. You have been warned. And please feel free to leave a review, the door is always open.**

**ooOoo**

_Are you afraid, afraid of the truth, in the mirror staring back at you? The image is cracked, but so is the view, yeah. If the strength of a tree begins in the roots, then I tend to bury into you. At least now the storm can't blow me away. So crawl inside, my head with me. I'll show you how, it feels to be, to blame like me._

_Schizophrenic Conversations- Staind_

**ooOoo**

Once she closed the door, she moved toward him and gently kissed him.

Feeling his back muscles tighten in response, he picked her up and carried her to the bed, laying her down. Sitting right back up, she reached for his belt, pulled on the leather till it released, and furiously worked at the buttons on his pants.

Helping him to step out of both pants and underwear, he stood exposed to her.

"Bridget…"

"Hush, Jamie, lay down."

He did as she asked, but not before removing his shirt and tossing it over to the corner of the room.

Crawling up the bed, she took him in her hand, working her fingers to see his reaction.

"That's nice…" he whispered.

"Just nice?"

"Aye."

"This hasn't happened for you before, has it?"

"What?"

"This." She placed a feather light kiss to his chest and worked her way down his body.

He grit his teeth.

"Relax, Jamie, you're safe…"

"Normally I'd be the one tellin' ye that, Bridget."

"I know, but tonight I don't matter," she insisted as she blew across the tip, heard him shiver in response, his fingers tangling lightly in her hair. "That's what I was waiting for…"

He gasped as she took him fully and completely, using her tongue in ways he'd never dreamed imaginable.

"I dinna ken how ye learned t' do that, but I'll be damned if ye stop now…" he groaned.

He released him with an audible pop. Looking up from between his legs, she grinned at him. "Like it, do you?"

He couldn't answer, just gathered her hair behind her head and guided her down again. "Please, dinna stop."

"As you wish, Highlander," she set to work again, careful not to catch him with her teeth.

This same practice lasted about 10 minutes more, before she heard his breath catch in his throat. She took it as a sign to let him go, and she was right. It wasn't long before his hand came down and gripped where her mouth had been.

He worked furiously, listening to her whispers of what she wanted him to do, how much she wanted him, and how hard she'd come for him if she could, right then and there.

"I canna…" he managed.

"Go on, let me see…" she growled in his ear. "I want to see you come, let me see you come…" she scrambled back down between his legs, and opened her mouth, taking him again.

Finally he let go a strangled cry and exploded, spilling his seed into her mouth. Spent, he fell backward on to the bed, barely able to move as Bridget swallowed, took a towel and cleaned him off. Once she'd done so, she threw it into the laundry basket and settled back under the blanket.

"I canna believe ye just did that."

"Why? I'm your wife. I should be able to please you without expecting something in return." She crawled back up and laid beside him.

Laying back on the pillow, she saw him start to shake.

"What's wrong?"

"I dinna ken," he answered as the first tears spilled down his face.

Bridget brought his head to her chest. "It's alright, love. Lay your head."

He held on tight to her, his arms locking around her waist.

"Och, I love ye so verra verra much."

"I know. I love you too."

"I'm so ashamed."

"Why?"

"Because I'm crying like a bairn," he sobbed, his voice muffled.

"You have all the more reason to cry," she ran her fingers through his hair.

"But not like this."

"Yes, exactly like this," she bent and kissed the top of his head.

"But…"

"Shh, it's alright…"

He said nothing more, just held on as tight as he could, his entire body shaking with pent up anger, pain, and grief. He'd not had a chance to let himself process what exactly had happened to him. It's not every day that one is nearly hanged, sees another hanged in their place, receives 100 strokes to the back and their ear nailed to the pillory for their trouble and lives to tell the tale.

"That's it, Jamie, it's alright to cry."

He held on tighter, close to squeezing the breath out of her.

"When the tears are on the outside the inside is healing."

"I feel so silly."

"You need to allow yourself to feel, Jamie. You can't bear the brunt of everything forever. If you don't let it out at some point, you're going to break."

"I think I'm breaking now, an' I canna stop it."

"Your body will stop when you're ready. Don't rush it."

"It's nae m' body that's broke. It's m' soul."

"Well then, that's why you have me."

He nodded.

"An' ye have me," he sniffed.

Bridget reached over toward her bedside table and grabbed a tissue from the box. "Here, blow."

He did. "Thank ye."

She smiled. "Better?"

"I dinna think I can stop yet."

"It's alright. Don't rush it. You're safe."

Gradually, as his shoulders stopped heaving, he curled into her side, snaking an arm around her middle and held her close.

"I canna thank ye enough for what ye've done."

"You'd have done the same for me."

After a few more minutes of quiet conversation, they fell asleep wrapped in each other's arms.

**ooOoo**

Bridget awoke three hours later to a quiet murmuring beside her. Opening her eyes but not moving with her back to Jamie, she listened.

"I canna forget ye, but I canna live in the past either. Mother, I still miss ye every day, an' I hope I havena disappointed ye. Father…" he paused, took a deep breath. "Ye did the best ye could, no matter what. Cora, I only wish I'd had a chance t' say goodbye to you an' yours."

She could hear him struggling to control himself enough for whatever he had to say next.

"Georgia, I'll always love ye as m' son's birth mother, naught more. I forgive ye, now be at peace."

He could have said something more, but she didn't hear it. As soon as baby Carol stirred, he went silent and still, hoping not to give himself away as Bridget got up and went to the nursery.

She returned with the fussy baby in her arms, settling down into the bed.

"Okay Bug Bug, let's try this," she undid her dressing gown and encouraged Carol to latch. "Ouch, don't bite!"

Jamie stirred.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up," Bridget whispered as she reattached Carol and got her nursing properly. "Go back to sleep."

"Nae, I'm fine," he mumbled, sitting up and watching as she nursed.

"It's not a big deal, you know. I'm sure you've seen this many times before."

"Nae, Georgia would nae let me see her nurse Alex. She said it wasna proper."

"Pfft, stuff propriety," she shifted Carol to the other side and got her nursing. "It's a natural thing. She's doing fine as is, I'm just glad I don't have to feed her on the bottle." Bridget waited till Carol finished, and sat her up. "There, is that better, Bug Bug?"

"She seems happy enough."

Bridget smiled and handed her to Jamie. "Would you burp her?"

Jamie took her in his lap, put a hand underneath her chin to support her head, and gently patted her back until she gave a loud blech.

"Och, what a good girl!" Jamie praised the little girl, wiping the tiny mouth and letting her lay on his chest, content and gurling.

"Oh that's a perfect shot. Let me get my camera."

"Nae! Dinna ye dare!"

"Come on, Jamie, with your hair sticking up everywhere and her lying on your chest, it's a perfect shot. I want a couple for her baby book."

"Och, alright then…" he sat up enough to lean against the headboard without disturbing her, and waited till Bridget returned with her camera in hand.

"Wait, wait," he smoothed his hair out as best he could.

"Never thought you'd be one for worrying about what you look like in the middle of the night."

"M' hair is a mess."

"And you think I look like the cover of a magazine right now?"

They smiled at each other as Carol let out a yawn.

"Sleepy baby," Bridget whispered as she clicked the camera. Though it was not a digital camera, she was more than happy with the result she knew would be awaiting her once the roll of film was finished. "I have a perfect caption for that as well."

"Ye do?"

"Yep, I think I'll call it 'Shh! Daddy at work'," she giggled. Setting the camera down, she curled up because the two of them. "She looks like you right now, you know."

"Does she?"

"Yeah, but then again, most babies look like their daddy, at least for a little while."

"But, ye dinna have blue eyes, an' neither do I."

"No, but babies are usually born with blue eyes, and it usually changes over time." She stared at Carol lying on Jamie's chest. "I can't get over how happy she looks with you."

"O' course she is. I'm her daddy."

Bridget smiled. "If I can put her back to bed, maybe we can both get a few more hours of sleep before we have to be up for the day."

"What time is it?"

"Near enough midnight I should think," Bridget put a hand on Carol's tiny head, stroked her hair. "Oh but I don't want to disturb her. She's all happy sleeping on your chest."

"So let her sleep wi' us tonight."

"But you can't sleep on your back all night, you snore like a hibernating bear."

"I dinna snore!"

"Liar liar pants on fire," she grinned. "Can we put her between us with a pillow wall on either side, so she won't roll and we won't squish her?"

"Aye we could, but I dinna think we'll squish her. Wee thing's going t' sleep for at least three hours…"

"Don't jinx it!"

"Eh?"

"Never mind," Bridget built a sturdy pillow wall, and gently lifted the baby off Jamie's chest and placed her on her back. Carol's head jerked once, she stretched, and settled again, making tiny smacking noises with her lips. "Okay, she's still asleep…" she whispered, putting a finger to her lips.

Jamie nodded, laid back on his own pillow. His breathing steady, he smiled as he looked over to see her daughter's sleeping face staring back at him.

"She's beautiful," he whispered, stroking the air beside her chubby cheek.

"I can't believe we made such a good looking baby," Bridget whispered back.

"She gets that from you, ye know."

"That's not possible. I already said she looks like you."

"Poor lassie."

Bridget resisted the urge to smack him in the shoulder. "As much as I'd love to lie here and watch her all night, I need to sleep. Happy mummy equals happy baby."

"Not if yer only sleepin' three hours at a time."

"Better three than one," she mumbled as she relaxed into her own pillow and closed her eyes. "I love you."

"Love ye too," he whispered, his breathing tapering off to a slower rate as he settled down to sleep.

Three hours later, Carol awoke screeching.

Bridget shot straight up, as though she'd be scalded. Looking down, she saw Carol's face contorted, screaming as though she'd just seen a ghost.

"What's the matter?" Bridget picked her up and cradled her to her breast. "It's okay, Bug Bug, there's nothing wrong. Mummy's here…"

She put her finger to Carol's lips, and she opened her mouth.

"You're hungry, that's what it is," she turned on the bedside lamp, bathing the room in a faint yellow glow. She undid her dressing gown and got Carol to latch properly. "Ohh, I hope you finish quickly, Mummy's tired and wants to go back to sleep. Please?"

It was useless trying to reason with a two week old newborn. They usually had their days and nights mixed up, would demand to be fed when they were hungry, slept whenever they felt like it, and soiled themselves seconds after you changed their nappie for the tenth time that day.

Thankfully, after being burped, Carol went back to sleep, allowing Bridget a few more hours of bliss before having to get up and make breakfast for the family.

Luckily Alex was not a picky eater. Most of the time he'd ask for a bowl of oatmeal partrich and a glass of juice, which made it easy for her, especially with a new baby. And with her maternity leave so short, she had less than a month left to decide if she could afford to go back for a short time or just quit outright.

Once she finished with breakfast, she sat Alex down at the kitchen table with a colouring book and crayons, made sure Jamie was alright with looking after Carol for an hour or so, and began drafting a letter of resignation. They'd be moving soon anyway, and if she could get a job in Inverness, with good benfits and reasonable hours, they'd be set.

It took her less than an hour to write it properly, and, upon revision, she sealed it in an envelope and slipped it in her purse.

Tomorrow she could take it in to work, and in two weeks time they'd be off to Inverness.

A new beginning.


	35. Such Great Heights

**Garden Gnomie: I've never been a huge Sherlock Holmes fan, so I'm not sure if I'd watch it, but as they say, don't knock it till you try it, right? Thank you for the review**

**ninewood: You've been so instrumental in helping with this story, I honestly cannot thank you enough. I'm so glad Jamie's not in so much pain anymore, poor guy, and everything is slowly going back to normal. Thank you so much again.**

**A/N: Well readers, this is the last chapter of 'Musically Inclined', my very first Doctor Who story. While I'm sad that it's ending, there is a lot more of Jamie and Bridget to come. Be on the lookout for the sequel, 'Wise Men Use Tonight', which should be up soon. Thank you so much for all your reviews and support, I truly appreciate it more than you could imagine.**

**Regards,**

**Bluehaven4220**

**ooOoo**

_I, am thinking it's a sign, that the freckles in our eyes are mirror images and when we kiss they're perfectly aligned. And I, have to spectulate, that God himself did make us into corresponding shapes, like puzzle pieces from the play. And true, it may seem like a stretch, but it's thoughts like this that catch my troubled head when you're away when I am missing you to death._

_Such Great Heights- The Postal Service_

**ooOoo**

**26****th**** August 2010**

**Inverness, Scotland**

"Mama, do I have to go to school?"

"Yes you do, love. I'll be right there with you. It's not a full day today, we're just going for a visit."

He stopped, as though the thought hadn't yet occurred to him. "Oh."

Carol shireked from the back bedroom, letting Mummy know she was still there.

"Yes I hear you, Bug Bug, don't worry," she called back. "Jamie, would you finish helping Alex get dressed? Carol's yelling for me."

"Aye," he put his teacup in the sink and went to Alex, who was fiddling with his breeches. "Stand still, Alex. Your breeches are a bit twisted."

"But Daddy…"

"Stand still…"

"But I don't want t' go."

"Why not?"

"I'm nervous."

"What are ye so nervous about?"

"I dinna ken bout this school," the young boy admitted. "I dinna know anyone!"

"You'll meet new people today," Jamie answered. "That's why Mummy is goin' wi' ye, and I'm going t' stay home wi' Carol."

"But why can't _you_ take me, Daddy?"

"Because your mummy found the school, an' knows more about where it is."

"But you're always home with Carol. Doesn't the man go out t' work an' the woman stay home? It was like that when we lived here before."

Oh _that's _what this is about.

"Sometimes, and it's different now," Jamie explained as he helped Alex to tie his shoes. "Sometimes the woman goes out to work, and the man stays home. It doesn't matter anymore. If it works for our family, then it works."

"But don't you like to work, Daddy?"

"Yes I do, but so does Mummy."

"Can Mummy stay home? I want Mummy to stay home."

"That's something we'll have to talk about with Mummy, alright?"

"Now?"

"No, not now. A little later."

Alex stuck out his bottom lip.

"Yer gonna get that lip snagged on summat one o' these days, an' then yer face is gonna stay like that. A nice big gash in the middle o' yer lip."

"Oh Daddy, that's not nice," Bridget reappeared carrying Carol is her arms. "Okay, she's fed, she's changed, she's okay. Are you ready Alex?"

"Aye," there was a sad edge to his voice.

"What's the matter?"

"I dinna want t' go t' school!" he wailed, startling Jamie, who put his hand on the boy's shoulder. "An' I dinna want ye t' go back t' work and I want Daddy t' take me t' school, and ye dinna love me like ye do Carol!"

Bridget put a hand to her forehead. "Oh dear…" she handed Carol to Jamie and bent down to Alex's level. "Alex, why do you think we don't love you like we do Carol?"

"Because ye pay more attention t' her!" he wailed, snot running down his face.

Bridget reached into her pocket and produced a Kleenex. "Blow your nose, sweetheart, and then we can talk."

Alex did as she asked.

"There," she sat on the floor on the front hallway, across from where they stored the boots and shoes. "Now, come sit down with Mummy…"

He climbed into her lap and stuck his thumb in his mouth.

"Thumb out of your mouth, please," Bridget kissed the top of her son's head. "I'm sorry you feel that way, Alex, but Daddy and I love you both equally. Carol needs more attention right now because she's just a little baby, she can't do all the things you can. She can't write her name, she can't pick out and eat breakfast all by herself, and she can't dress herself in the morning. She needs Mummy and Daddy to do all that for her."

"But I dinna want t' be a big kid, I want t' be little," he sobbed.

"You're still little, sweetheart, and I love you very much, don't ever think that I don't."

"But I miss you, Mummy."

"You miss me?"

"Aye, yer always wi' Carol or busy looking in the, uh…"

"The what?"

"That thing..." he pointed to the laptop sitting on the kitchen table.

"The computer? Yes, that's so I can find work." She couldn't believe what she was hearing. Why was it so difficult to explain that she didn't _like_ having to look for work when she could be playing with her children. That, if she didn't find work, there wouldn't be enough money for the things they needed, like food and clothes.

"Can't you stay home an' Daddy go t' work?"

"Is that what this is about?" she asked. "You want me to stay home and Daddy go to work?"

"Uh huh," he admitted. "When we lived here before mummies dinna go t' work. They stayed home."

No wonder he was so sad. He was suffering from culture shock. In less than a two month period, he'd seen his Daddy carted off to prison in chains, and then reappearing with a strange man in a blue box, and then baby Carol coming along and his Mummy's dad coming and scaring him half to death, and then moving from Ottawa to Inverness. That was enough change to fell an adult, let alone a little boy.

"Well, I'm not going back to work for a little while yet. So what Mummy and Daddy will do is talk about it together, and we'll see if it would be better for Mummy or Daddy to work."

"But I want you t' stay home!"

On this point he would not bend, it seemed.

"Things are different now, Alex. Sometimes mummies go to work and daddies stay home. But we'll talk about that later, hmm? Dry those tears, love, and you and me will go to school and meet your teacher, how does that sound?"

He stood up and hugged Bridget tightly. "Will ye hold my hand?"

"Of course I will."

Alex let go of her and allowed her to stand up. They both kissed Jamie and Carol goodbye and went out to the car.

It took less than 15 minutes to drive to the school, where they were greeted by Alex's teacher, Miss Ramsay, who had set up stations in the classroom to show the children where everything was, and where they would be sitting, and introduce the children to each other, perhaps they could make new friends.

Bridget stood along the wall with the other parents, watching Alex as he listened to what Miss Ramsay said, and smiled as he sat next to another boy on the carpet, building a castle with blocks.

"It should go like this!" the other boy insisted, readjusting a block, which unfortunately caused the entire structure to collapse. "Oh no! I'm sorry."

Alex just smiled at the other boy. "That's okay, that means we can build it again!"

Fast friends in the making.

Once the day was over, Alex quickly made his way back over to Bridget, taking her hand and pulling her.

"Mummy, come meet David's mum!"

"Okay Alex, okay, no need to pull me…" he dragged her over to another woman who was struggling to keep up with her own child. "Hi, I'm Bridget, I'm Alex's mum. I'm guessing you must be David's."

The other woman smiled and shook Bridget's offered hand. "I'm Kim. Nice to meet you."

"Likewise," they stood silent for a moment.

"The story I got was that David would like Alex to come for a play date," Kim smiled. "If that's alright with you of course."

"Of course it is, perhaps next weekend?"

"Sounds good to me," Kim dug into her purse and produced a small sliding puzzle, handing it to David and laughing while he and Alex took turns trying to solve it.

Bridget rubbed Alex's hair. "We just moved here a few months ago, so I'm thrilled he's been able to make friends so quickly."

"They certainly did seem to be having a good time together," Kim reached into her purse once again and produced a pen and paper. She scribbled her phone number and handed it to Bridget. "There's our number, if you ever need anything, don't hesistate to call."

"Oh," Bridget couldn't help but smile at such a generous gesture. "Thank you very much."

"We can play more, can't we Mama?" David asked as he handed back the sliding puzzle. "Please?"

"Not today, love, we've got to get home. We can't leave Bean any longer, we don't want him to go pee in the house."

Bridget chuckled. "We've got to get home too, Daddy's got Carol and he can't feed her."

Kim smiled. "Have a good rest of the day. See you next week!"

"You too, Kim, bye bye!"

Bridget and Alex got into the car with smiles on their faces.

"See, Alex, what did I tell you? You were all worried about what school was going to be like, and you made a new friend already."

"I had fun, Mummy."

"I'm glad you had fun," she put the blinker on and turned into the driveway. "Are you excited for school to start?"

"Yeah!"

"Excellent. You can tell Daddy all about it when we get inside…" they got out of the car and went into the house.

"Hello?" they called by way of greeting.

"Say hi, Mummy!" she heard Jamie's voice and Carol's gurgle. "Good girl, you said hi to yer Mummy! What a clever girl you are!"

Both she and Alex went into the living room to see Jamie sitting on the floor against the couch with a pillow perched on his knees and talking to Carol, who smiled back at him.

"Did you two have a good time?" Bridget set her purse and keys on the table and sat down next to her husband.

"Aye, we did. She's been smiling all day."

"That's good to know, means she likes spending time with her daddy," Bridget beckoned Alex over and had him sit down with them. "Alex, why don't you tell Daddy how everything went?"

"Can't you tell him?"

"I can, but I think you should," Bridget answered.

"I made a new friend!" Alex blurted.

Jamie smiled. "Good! Do they have a name?"

"David!" Alex could barely contain his excitement. "An' we're gonna be in the same class, an' we're gonna sit together at the same table, an' we played with blocks on the carpet."

Jamie's eyes widened in good-natured surprise. "Oh ho, wow! Sounds like you really had a good time."

"Yeah! An' Mummy an' David's mum 'changed phone numbers an' we're gonna have a play date."

Jamie smiled and brought Alex into his lap. He'd not seen Alex this animated and happy since before his birthday in November. Now he was just thankful that they'd be able to get him into school and not have to worry about tantrums in the mornings. And if he had a friend to keep him company, even better. Everyone needs someone they can count on, no matter how young they are.

"Mummy, are you an' Daddy gonna talk about who's going t' work?"

Jamie's mouth dropped open as he stared at Bridget.

"Not now, but we will," Bridget answered. "Now, once we've all had supper and you've had your bath, Daddy and I will talk about it."

"What's this?" Jamie asked as he ran his hands through Alex's hair.

"We'll talk later, honey…" she leaned over and kissed her husband's cheek.

"But…"

"Later," she insisted.

**ooOoo**

Once the children had gone to sleep, Jamie went out to the front porch, sitting in the porch swing as Bridget fixed two mugs of tea in the kitchen.

He smiled as she came outside, handed one to him, and curled up beside him.

"Ye know, I was wondering…"

"Wondering what?" Bridget took a sip of her tea.

"How none o' this would have been possible had either o' us not decided one day that we'd get into the TARDIS and travel."

"True, and I'm glad we did," Bridget answered, she cuddled in beside her husband and sighed, content. "It really must have hurt him to let us go though."

"Eh?"

"When he landed in my backyard back in Ottawa, he told me he needed us," she confessed. "It sounded as though he couldn't function without us."

"If it hurt him that much, why did he leave ye wi' me an' Alex?"

"Because you needed me," she explained. "And he has a lot of friends scattered everywhere through time. You didn't have anyone."

"That doesna mean he wouldn't miss us."

"Very true," she agreed. "And when I was first pregnant and he brought Alex and I back here, he promised me he'd somehow get you back to me, and if he didn't manage that, then he'd failed."

Jamie's eyes went wide.

"He didn't ask ye t' go wi' him?"

"He knew what I'd say, so he didn't bother." She set her tea mug down on the porch. "He helped Alex and I find a place to live, and helped me find a job, and then he left to find you."

"An' when he did bring me back, he left right afterward."

"He always said he didn't like goodbyes."

"Aye, that's true," he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Do ye ever wonder what he's doing?"

"Sure, he's probably got someone else traveling with him, and off on all sorts of new adventures."

Jamie nodded, holding his wife close.

Settling into Jamie's embrace, Bridget could almost swear she could hear the TARDIS engines groaning in the distance.

**ooOoo**

The Doctor slid out from under the TARDIS console and flipped a switch.

The TARDIS grumbled.

"Yes, I know old girl, I miss them too," he patted the console. "They'll be alright, though. They have their own family now."

She grumbled again.

"Yes yes it is quite dull with them, but they've got to live their own lives…" he leaned over and checked the monitor. Smiling to himself, he dematerialized the TARDIS set it on a course unknown.

"Let's see what else is out there, shall we?"

The TARDIS grumbled in agreement, and as he settled down with a cup of tea, he realized something.

His companions called him The Doctor.

They called him a Time Lord, they called him a traveler, but most important of all, they called him their friend.

Friend.

That one term would last him another thousand years.

And a thousand more.


End file.
